


Freudian Slip

by velociraptor44



Category: South Park
Genre: Kyman - Freeform, M/M, style
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-05-25 17:48:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 56,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6204856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velociraptor44/pseuds/velociraptor44
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stan never acted on a relationship with Kyle because he was already in a shitty one with Wendy. Now that they're broken up, Kyle's found someone else. No one ever anticipated what would happen next</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There may be more than 5 chapters. Actually, there most likely will be for sure

“Stan, have you been listening to anything I’ve said the past ten minutes?” Wendy complained to her boyfriend as she leaned back on her spinning chair by the desk. Stan lifted his head up from his textbook and glanced over at the black haired girl’s direction.

“Yeah, of course.” He lied, bringing his gaze back down and pretending to read the geography book. Wendy let out an annoyed sigh. 

“Fine, then what was I talking about?” She demanded, making her way over to the bed where Stan was lying. Stan was now forced to give her his full attention, something he hadn’t been very good at lately. He sat himself up on the bed and tried to come up with the best answer he could, thinking about past conversations they had recently. 

“You were talking about how Bebe doesn’t talk to you anymore since she started dating Token?” He responded, hoping to god that that was at least partially right. Wendy rolled her hazel eyes at him in annoyance. 

“That sounded like more of a question than a statement.” She elaborated. Stan raised a curious eyebrow her way.

“Well, was I wrong?” He asked, genuinely wondering if his bullshit answer actually had some truth to it. 

“Well…no, but still. It sounded like you just guessed that.” She stated, arms crossed across her chest. “But then again, I’m not that predictable, so I guess you would have to have been listening.” She reasoned, Stan trying hard not to crack a smile. 

“See? There you go.” Stan concluded for her, returning his eyes to the textbook he was pretending to study from. Wendy let out an exasperated sigh as she returned to her work station. 

“You know, you seem really distant lately. I don’t know what’s gotten in to you.” She went on, Stan attempting not to roll his eyes. All she did when the two of them hung out was complain, gossip, or do her homework, not to mention the fact that physical intimacy was something she rarely found necessary; of course Stan had been losing interest in her, what guy wouldn’t? Yet despite Stan’s discontent, he somehow always stuck through with her, even if it did neither of them any good. 

“Sorry Wendy. I’ve just been stressed with the big games coming up; I really need to get that scholarship, so it’s kinda been weighing on my shoulders.” He made up, fixing his hair under his blue and red toque. Wendy glanced over his way with half-sympathetic eyes and nodded. 

“Yeah, I guess if you want to get into a good college, you’ll need that football scholarship. I can see why that’d be important to you.” She preached honestly. Stan brought his eyes up to meet hers. 

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?” Stan shot back defensively, understanding the condescending undertones in her statement. Wendy shrugged her shoulders. 

“I don’t see what you’re so mad at. I’m just telling you what you already know. Your grades aren’t the best Stan, I don’t know what you want me to say.” She declared as-a-matter-of-factly. Stan could feel the anger bubbling up inside him. He clenched his fists shut to contain some of his frustration. 

“Just because people don’t get straight A’s doesn’t mean they’re stupid. Look at Kyle; he’s a fucking genius and he got a B+ in English.” Stan defended, roping in his best friend as an example. 

“Oh please Stan, you know that’s only because he’s shit at creative writing; if it was all analysis, he’d get at least an A. The only A you can get is in gym.” Wendy fired back with venom in her high pitched voice. Stan couldn’t take it anymore. The quarterback slammed his textbook shut and threw it into his backpack, swinging it over his shoulders once he zipped it up tight. 

“Oh, so you’re just going to leave? You don’t have to be so goddamn sensitive.” Wendy scolded her boyfriend as he went for the doorknob. Stan rolled his dark blue eyes at her.

“You know I hate when people apply that dumb jock stereotype on me; you did that to deliberately piss me off.” Stan shot back, his eyebrows furrowed. 

“God, you’re such a baby.” Wendy scoffed, standing up and placing her hands on her narrow hips. “If you want to leave, just go.” She offered, gesturing her hand to the doorframe. Stan let out a harsh laugh.

“That’s kind of what I set out to do when I came over here.” He told her straightforwardly, gripping the knob and swinging the door open. 

“If you’re going to be like this, don’t bother coming back.” Wendy screamed down the hallway as Stan headed down the stairs. Stan spun around to see that she was following him and called to her from the foyer.

“Fine, I won’t!” Stan yelled, wiping open the front door and stepping out into the crisp early spring air. Stan had barely managed to put on his shoes, so when he started to pick up the pace, he tripped over his untied shoes laces. 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He let out, picking himself up off the wet ground and continuing his walk homeward, not looking forward to going there either. Once he was inside, he was greeted by the sounds of more arguing from his parents, something that they had made quite a hobby of the past few months. 

“Why don’t you guys get another fucking divorce?” The teen bellowed as he clambered up the stairs, stomping all the way up. He slammed the door and locked it, tossing his backpack on the floor and ignoring the sounds of his mother scolding him from the hallway. As Stan was about to reach his hand to the back of his closet for a bottle to quench his much needed liquor binge, he saw his phone light up on his desk. He strolled over to it and picked it up, a smile crossing his face when he saw it was from Kyle. 

Kyle: Hey dude, wanna come chill at Cartman’s house? Kenny’s going to be there too. 

Stan was satisfied; any opportunity to hang out with the guys, especially Kyle, he’d take. 

Stan: Sure dude. I’ll be right over. 

Once he finished his text, he snuck out of the house discreetly, not wanting to deal with the repercussions of his distasteful comment earlier. He rang the doorbell and was welcomed by Kenny, a face he much preferred to that of Wendy, his newly made ex…again. As Stan entered, he noticed the very thing that had been bothering him the whole time he was trying to do homework at Wendy’s house. Kyle and Cartman sat in close proximity to each other with a different demeanor than he was used to. Kyle and Eric had always been close fremeies, but recently Stan realised that Kyle would suggest more hangouts with the four of them instead of just the two of them. He also noticed that Cartman started to pick on him less, and that the banter between the two of them wasn’t nearly as dramatic or spiteful as it used to be. 

“You wanna take a picture? It’ll last longer.” Kenny asked Stan who had been unconsciously staring at the two of them. Stan shook his head to break the spell he was under and took a seat on the other side of Kyle on the living room couch. 

“You made it here pretty fast from Wendy’s house.” Kyle noted as he turned and gave the raven haired boy his attention. Stan shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably,

“Well, I wasn’t really at Wendy’s.” Stan began, leaning back on the sofa. 

“She kicked you out again?” Eric chimed in with a devilish smile. Stan narrowed his eyes at Cartman’s condescending remark,

“No, I left.” He corrected, “But I don’t wanna talk about it; can we please change the subject?” He tried to finalise. 

“Did you ask her for sex again and she turned you down, calling you a pig or some shit?” Cartman went on, calling up past reasons why they had broken up. Stan felt a rush of warm anger wash over him. 

“I said I don’t wanna fucking talk about it.” Stan shot back harshly. Everyone simultaneously raised their eyebrows at Stan’s seemingly unprovoked anger. 

“Calm the fuck down, Marsh; all I fucking did was ask.” Eric retorted, his brown eyebrows furrowed. 

“Yeah, and all I fucking asked was for us not to talk about it.” Stan defended, staring hard at Cartman. 

“God damn; just because you can’t hold a relationship for shit doesn’t mean you have to take it out on me.” Cartman retorted, returning the harsh stare. 

“Cartman!” Kyle piped up from between them, giving Eric a look of disappointment. Stan clenched his fist tightly and started to breathe harder. 

“Stan, don’t you fucking dare.” Kyle added, noticing his fist at the ready as though he was about to strike at any minute. Stan only became angrier at Kyle’s comment, but decided to obey him anyway, shoving his hands into his pockets to avoid the temptation to deck him one. 

“That’d be interesting actually. I’d like to see who’d win in a fight between you two.” Kenny piped up from his spot on the ground. All eyes turned to him, but all he did was shrug. 

“Well it’s pretty obvious I’d win. I beat up Stan pretty fucking hard the last time we fought.” Cartman added confidently, referring to a fight between the two of them in the eighth grade.

“Yeah, that was before I started lifting and shit. I’d easily kick your ass now.” Stan returned with a grin. 

“Kyle, who do you think’d win?” Kenny questioned. Kyle cocked his head to the side as he pondered the question. 

“I don’t know actually. Cartman’s got a lot of weight on him and pretty good strategies, but Stan’s got more experience and could move quicker.” The red head summarised. “Hopefully we’ll never have to find out.” Kyle warned, looking at both of them with a hard expression. 

The boys settled down after that and decided to play a game they had become pretty good at recently: poker. They played at Cartman’s kitchen table, his mom bringing them snacks halfway through their game. 

“I’m out.” Kyle announced, setting his cards down on the table and taking a sip of water. 

“Come on Jew, it’s only a small blind. What’s 5 chips?” Cartman questioned, leaning back confidently, his cards held close to his face. 

“I don’t want to risk it. I’m not losing, if you haven’t noticed.” Kyle reminded him with a raised eyebrow. Cartman rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, but that’s only because you go all in when you’ve got something good and fold when you’re not confident. You’re so fucking obvious.” Eric told him. “But may I remind you that you’re not winning either?” He said, winking at him and nudging him with his elbow. Stan caught the small gesture and tightened the grip on the cards in his hand. 

“Yeah, well you’re only winning because you’re a fucking good liar.” Kyle reasoned, his pale complexion turning slightly pink. 

“Poker face of fucking gold.” Eric responded, smiling at the change of colour he caused the red head to undergo. Stan could hardly believe his eyes, nor did he want to. This was exactly the type of body language that made him die a little inside. It was nothing major, but it was enough that he felt he had reason to be concerned, and the blushing confirmed it. He let out a sigh as he pushed his five chips into the middle of the table, not saying a word. 

“You’re playing like Kenny.” Cartman joked, making a comment regarding his silence. Stan nodded and faked a closed mouth smile, taking a sip of orange juice and wishing it were a beer. 

A few weeks later the boys found themselves together again, this time playing basketball at the court near their houses. Kyle was beating everyone per usual in a game of HORSE with Cartman complaining all the while about how he was cheating. 

“Kahl, you have to stand behind the line!” The larger boy called out from the sidelines, wiping his forehead with a moist towel. Kyle rolled his emerald eyes at the brunette and bounced the ball aggressively in his direction, the ball hitting him in the stomach. 

“I was behind the fucking line! Get some goddamn glasses if you don’t believe me.” Kyle claimed, running his hands through his exposed red, curly hair. When Kyle played basketball was one of the few times he’d take off his ushanka due to the sweat caused by his massive fro. Stan always loved seeing his natural hair uncovered, so naturally he tended to stare more when they were on the court. 

“I’m serious about the picture thing, dude. It’ll last a hell of a lot longer.” Kenny whispered jovially into the raven haired boy’s ear, making Stan smile uncomfortably back at his friend. He wasn’t sure if Kenny thought he had a crush on Kyle or if he just found him attractive, but either way, he was always there to point out when he was being a little too obvious. 

“Stan, was I behind the line?” Kyle asked his friend who was standing behind him. Stan nodded,

“Of course, dude. Why would you cheat at this? You could whoop any of our asses.” Stan reaffirmed. Kyle smiled at his friend’s response.

“See Cartman?” He called back to him. Cartman stood up and bounced the ball back to Kyle with an even stronger force than Kyle sent it flying to him, forcing Kyle to step back when he caught it. 

“You can’t ask Stan that shit; of course he’ll defend his super best friend over me.” Eric stated. Stan couldn’t help but smile at his accusation, it being totally true of course. 

“I saw him behind the line too Cartman; you’re shit outta luck, dude.” Kenny replied, zipping up his coat as the sun went down. Cartman waved a dismissive hand Kenny’s way as he took a seat back on the benches, Kyle and Kenny following suit while Stan leaned against the chain link fence. 

“Whatever; at least I’m not a fucking ginger.” Cartman played off, running his hand briefly through Kyle’s messy hair. To Stan’s surprise, Kyle didn’t swat his hand away as he would have previously done, but he let him do it, only rolling his eyes in a manner of slight discontent. 

“God, not this again.” Kyle joked sarcastically, placing his green hat neatly on his head, tucking in the excess curls that tried to escape. All the boys took out their water bottles and took long sips, quietly watching the sun go down in the distance and enjoying one of the few days left of nice weather. 

“Oh, by the way Stan, there are quite a few girls at school that told me they’d love a piece of your ass.” Kenny brought up out of the blue as the four exited the courts. 

“Look at Stan over here, dripping in bitches.” Cartman coaxed lightly, raising his eyebrows at him. 

“Who told you that?” Stan wondered. Kenny shrugged his shoulders,

“You know, some of the girls in our grade: Red, Patty, Lola.” Kenny listed, “And lemme just say, they’re all pretty skilled at one thing or another.” Kenny said with a wink. 

“You slept with all of them?” Kyle accused, giving Kenny a condescending look. Kenny shook his head.

“Nah, not all of them; not all of them would let me.” He smiled, “But in all seriousness Stan, consider some of them. For you I’d probably recommend Patty; she’s a little weird, but I think you could do with some freaky shit in your life, you know, to liven things up, especially after being with a bitch like Wendy for so long.” Kenny suggested, bouncing the ball down the street. Stan rolled his dark blue eyes at the blonde’s offer.

“Thanks but no thanks, Kenny. I’m not really looking for anyone else right now.” Stan told them all aloud, not fully meaning what he said. There was someone he did want, but that person was not any of the girls that were interested in him, nor any girl for that matter. 

“Ah, I see what you mean. So you wanna try your luck with guys? Hmm, that’s a tough one Marsh, a lot of the good ones are taken.” Kenny went on, stroking his chin in the spot where he would have a goatee if he could grow facial hair. 

“No, no, just… don’t worry about me. I’ll figure my own shit out.” Stan brushed aside, trying to dismiss the whole topic. He could see Kyle’s cheeks flush a light shade of pink for a moment, but he colour quickly faded as the basketball was bounced towards him, breaking his train of thought and bringing him back to reality. Stan couldn’t help but let out a sigh. He’d secretly been crushing on the red head for so long, but lately he felt themselves distancing from each other for a reason he couldn’t piece together. Stan seemed to be the one making more of the effort, and when the two finally did hang out, there always seemed to be Kenny, Cartman, or both that would show up shortly after. 

They all walked home their separate ways, Kyle standing uncomfortably close to Cartman’s side and Stan with a sinking feeling in his stomach, a feeling even alcohol couldn’t fix. 

Stan wiped the salty sweat off his forehead as he bent over and grabbed hold of his knees, which seemed to be in constant pain these days from all the practicing their team did. He went searching through his bag and pulled out a large water bottle, emptying the contents not into his mouth, but all over the front of his shirt, making it appear as though he sweat even more than he did, if that was possible. After the shirt was thoroughly soaked through, he grabbed hold of it and ripped it off as if it were a Band-Aid, balling it up and tossing it into his gym bag. A few moments after doing so, he heard someone approach from behind.

“Stan?” A higher pitched voice called out. Stan turned around to see his best friend standing there in dress pants and a burgundy button up shirt with a collar. Stan couldn’t help but allow his eyes to bulge at the beautiful outfit the Jew was sporting, wishing he could tell him how amazing he looked. 

“What’s the occasion?” Stan questioned with an even tone he tried hard to muster. Stan caught the red-head staring fixated on his torso for a moment as he flexed his abs subtly for extra emphasis. It was moments like this that Stan was glad he put in all the effort he did because there was nothing Stan enjoyed more than making his not-so-straight friend turn red in the face and inarticulate for a moment of two. 

“I, uh, well that’s what I was going to talk to you about.” Kyle flustered, locking his eyes on Stan’s face to avoid the temptation of the rest of his exposed skin. Stan nodded.

“Ok, shoot.” He prodded, running a towel over the back of his neck. Kyle sat down on the bench next to Stan and looked up at him, his emerald eyes shining brightly with the setting sun in the background. 

“Well, I was wondering if you could take over one of my tutoring jobs on Tuesday nights. It’s just grade 8 bio, and I know you’re pretty good at it, so I was wondering if you could help me out.” Kyle questioned sincerely. Stan pondered for a second.

“Wait so, like every Tuesday?” Stan asked, taking a seat next to Kyle. Kyle nodded.

“Yeah. You could do it right after your football practice, and they’d come right to your house. It’s only for an hour.” Kyle explained, “I wanted to join the Model United Nations club at school and it’s the time I normally tutor at.” 

Stan nodded in comprehension at his best friend, “I guess so. That’s pretty cool that you thought of me actually, I mean, I know I’m not the smartest person you know.” Stan stated honestly, lowering his head a bit. Kyle rolled his eyes. 

“Stan, that’s just Wendy talking. She’s smart, but she’s arrogant as hell about it, and honestly, she’s more of a memorisation person where you’re more of an application guy. You can problem solve better than she can, I know that for sure.” Kyle praised. 

Stan let out a weak smile, “Kyle, you don’t have to pile it on; I already said I’d do it.” 

“I’m not, I swear. I’d never bullshit you just to get what I want.” Kyle answered, “I’m not Cartman.” He added, causing Stan to smile at the red head. 

“What about Cartman?” Eric’s deep voice boomed from behind the two of them. Stan and Kyle spun around to see Cartman in a similar get-up to what Kyle was wearing.  
“Wait, why’re you dressed up too?” Stan questioned, the intonation in his voice rising upon seeing Kyle’s pleased reaction to their unexpected visitor. 

“I’m joining that dumbass club too. I don’t have any extracurriculars and Kyle thinks it’ll look good if I want to apply to college, which I fucking don’t.” Cartman half-joked, locking his light brown eyes playfully on Kyle. 

“You’ll come around.” Kyle affirmed, flashing a smirk Eric’s way. “Honestly dude, I think you’ll like it. You get to argue world issues and debate resolutions. I already told you this before, but if you don’t want to be all politically correct and shit, you can take on the role of a country that doesn’t share the same views as the rest of the world.” Kyle elaborated, giving his undivided attention to the large brunette who was standing above him. Eric rolled his eyes and placed a hand on Kyle’s narrow shoulders.

“You don’t have to keep talking it up, Jew. I already said I’d join your nerdy ass club.” Cartman went on. Stan tightened the grip on the water bottle in his hands and shoved it into his bag. Of course you’ll join that dumbass club; the only reason you’re fucking doing it is to get closer to your “Jew”. 

Stan zipped up his bag and flung it over his shoulders, preparing to make a quick getaway. 

“Oh Stan? I already sent the kid your number, so you’ll get a phone call tonight asking where you live. Thanks again, by the way.” Kyle smiled brightly. 

“No problem. Bye Kyle, have fun.” Stan replied half-heartedly, forcing a smile. Stan turned his back and began his walk home, hearing a scoff from behind him. 

“Yeah, bye to you too Marsh.” Cartman spat. Stan turned around briefly at his comment, shuddering at the image of the two of them sitting together with the setting sun in the background dressed as though they were about to go on a date together. 

“Kay, bye Cartman.” Stan called back unwillingly before turning around again and continuing on his way. 

“Oh, Stan?” Eric called back. Stan spun around one last time. 

“What?” He questioned impatiently. 

“If you’re shivering you should put a fucking shirt on.” 

 

It was the dead of winter now and the cold had long setting in. The four boys sat at their typical spot at the cafeteria table, Kenny sitting silently next to Stan, Stan prodding at his food, and Cartman and Kyle going at it as usual. 

“I don’t know how you can even try to defend that country’s oppressive laws.” Kyle stated, ignoring his half eaten sandwich to argue with his brunette counter-part. 

“It’s a fucking debate Kahl; I’m supposed to represent Saudi Arabia, why the fuck wouldn’t I defend our laws?” Eric spouted back, crossing his arms over his broad chest. 

“You’re so full of shit Cartman. You chose to be them in a debate about women’s rights; who fucking does that?” Kyle shot back, his pale cheeks becoming red as they always do when Kyle begins to get into heated arguments. 

“It’s called good practice, Jew. It’s easy as fuck to be the UK; how’re you gonna learn good debating skills if you don’t challenge yourself once in a while?” Eric retorted, Kenny listening intently, Stan hoping they’d stop soon. 

Kyle rolled his eyes, “Oh please; you just want an excuse to represent another oppressive country. It’s so fucking typical of you.” He counteracted. Cartman let out a smirk. 

“Think what you want, but our chaperone policy is only to protect women from being raped when they go outside. I think that’s meritable.” Cartman returned. Kyle narrowed his eyes in confusion at the larger boy. 

“Wh-what the fuck? Firstly, “meritable” isn’t a word, but nice try. And secondly, women shouldn’t have to fear rape when they go outside; that whole system is flawed. They shouldn’t require someone to protect them from a problem that shouldn’t even exist.” Kyle went on. 

Cartman leaned back on the plastic chair and shot Kyle a smug look, “Well it fucking does exist, and are you gonna let the women roam the streets unprotected as they get raped left and right? No? Well then I think it’s pretty necessary.” He responded. Kyle grabbed the strings on his ushanka and pulled them in frustration. 

“Stop, Cartman. I know what you’re fucking doing, and I hate when you do this.” Kyle elaborated, Cartman still smiling smugly. 

“What am I doing?” He asked rhetorically, his bright white smile gleaming in the dim florescent light. 

“You’re playing devil’s advocate just to make me mad. I don’t know why you always do that.” Kyle said in an exasperated voice. 

“Oh, did I make you frustrated, Kahl? I had no idea my acting skills were so amazing.” Cartman laughed to himself cockily, sticking his hand under his hat and ruffling up his red curls. Kyle’s face turned that shade of red that Stan was tired to seeing.

“You’re so fucking smug.” Kyle retorted, darting his eyes away from the brunette. All Stan could do was roll his eyes. This was so typical nowadays. It was only a matter of time before Kyle admitted what Stan secretly knew all along. 

 

A few weeks passed and the four of them were together at a New Year’s Eve party at Cartman’s house, well, four plus Butters, Kenny’s new boyfriend and first serious relationship. The couple sat together on the couch while Cartman and Kyle sat abnormally close on the floor, Stan on the opposite side of Kyle. Stan could swear he saw Cartman caress the inside of his thigh a few times. Good thing Stan had already taken shots with Kenny or he’d care a hell of a lot more. 

“How does it feel to go from a whore to a committed relationship with the sappiest guy in South Park?” Cartman asked jokingly, knowing that Kenny could take any teasing he’d throw at him. Kenny picked up an empty beer can and tossed it at his head, missing his eye by only a couple centimetres. 

“Asshole.” The blond joked back, wrapping his arm around his boyfriend, “It feels fucking great, that’s what. Maybe you should give it a try some time.” Kenny snickered, raising an eyebrow Eric’s way. Eric and Kyle flushed a simultaneous light pink colour, Kyle not even lifting his eyes from the ground. This was really starting to piss Stan off. 

“I’m going outside.” Stan stated grumpily as he got up abruptly and kicked the empty beer can against the wall. He didn’t even bother putting on his coat; he headed straight outside and sat on the porch, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Stan didn’t normally smoke unless he was upset or drinking; in this case it was both. The red embers fell onto around his feet and the white smoke filled the air around him, clinging to his clothes and hair. He knew he’d smell like shit to them when he came in, but fuck it, he didn’t mind the smell that much. 

A few minutes later, he heard the screen door slide open as he neared the end of his Marlboro. A few quiet footsteps later and his best friend appeared beside him, sitting down with a sigh. Stan wordlessly finished his cigarette and stomped it out on the ground, extinguishing a bit of his pent up frustration. 

“Stan, why’d you leave?” Kyle questioned, his head tilted to the side. Stan felt like rolling his eyes, but he didn’t want to be rude; Kyle had done nothing wrong. 

“Doesn’t matter. I was just in a…mood.” Stan lied, trying to think of anything. There was no point now in confessing anything; he was clearly interested in Cartman, as he had been for the past few months. He only wondered if Kyle could sense his jealousy or if he was too wrapped up in Cartman to notice. 

“Oh, ok. Well, if there’s anything you ever want to talk about, just let me know.” Kyle sympathised. Stan flashed him a convincing white smile that shone in the dim moonlight. 

“Of course, dude. Thanks.” He offered, looking at the sparkling reflection in his friend’s bright eyes despite the hazy light. Kyle shot him a reassured grin and placed his hand on his chilled knee. 

“Um, I’m not sure how to bring this up, but I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a while now…” Kyle dragged on, scratching the back of his neck nervously. Stan brought his gaze back to the ground, wishing he could take out another cigarette. 

“You’re dating Cartman?” Stan suggested, making it sound more like a statement than a question. Kyle’s eyes went wide. 

“H-how did you know?” He stuttered, clearly nervous about this moment for a long time. Stan didn’t say anything for a few moments as he gathered his thoughts so he didn’t say anything he’d regret later. 

“It was pretty obvious, dude.” Stan said with a forced laugh. Kyle still had a look of fear on his face, but that fear was subtly subsiding as he heard Stan’s laugh and saw his smile. 

“You’re not mad? You don’t think it’s…unexpected or something?” Kyle wondered hopefully. Stan brought his eyes up to his best friend and shook his head.

“No way, dude. You guys have been friends for a while; it makes sense.” He stated honestly. It really did make sense, and even Stan could admit that. Cartman had clearly always had a thing for Kyle, and Kyle clearly always cared for him. With Kyle’s tolerance and Cartman’s persistence, they were bound to be together at some point. Plus, Stan could remember Kyle admitting to him a few times that he thought he was attractive for a bigger guy. 

All the memories flooding back into Stan’s head started to make him dizzy. He knew this feeling all too well. He cupped his hands in front of his mouth and prayed nothing would spill out as he tried with all his might to repress the vomit that inevitably surfaced in times like this. 

“Stan, are you ok?” Kyle questioned, placing a reassuring hand on his back as Stan bent over. 

Stan nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine.” He stated just before he threw up all over his sneakers. Kyle stepped back and gave an uncertain look. 

“I’ll…go inside and get you a wet towel.” He offered, heading quickly back through the glass screen door and remerging soon after with one in his hands, as he promised. Stan took the towel and wiped his mouth, shoes, and whatever he could of the porch. 

“Jesus Christ,” Stan began, “I’m sorry you had to see that Kyle.” Stan apologised, feeling like an idiot. Kyle shook his head.

“Dude, it’s fine; I guess you just took those shots too quickly or something.” Kyle suggested, seemingly convinced that that was the cause. Stan nodded,

“Yeah, that must have been it.” 

The boys headed inside, Stan not in much of a party mood. 

“Fuckers, you guys are missing it! The ball’s about to drop.” Kenny quipped happily, tugging Butters close to his side. The TV shone brightly in the dark room; all heads were turned to it as it counted down from 10. Kenny grabbed Butters and pulled him close to him, ready to deliver a midnight kiss. Stan observed from the corner of his eye Cartman doing something similar. He grabbed Kyle’s shoulders and placed him in front of him, their eyes locked. Kyle appeared to be saying something and looking a little uncertain, but as soon as the countdown was done, Cartman ignored his words and brought his mouth to his, silencing the red-head, Kyle of course reciprocating the kiss in return. 

Stan didn’t want to look, but his eyes were caught. He forced himself to turn away in an attempt to control his jealousy, a jealousy that was quickly turning into sadness. Stan felt his eyes begin to warm with the feeling of repressed tears collecting inside of them. He knew it was his fault. Kyle wasn’t going to wait forever for him and Wendy to be done, and he regretted that he waited so long too. Stan knew that Kyle had had feelings for him at one point, but he was always with Wendy at the time, not that that meant anything now.  
Stan clenched his fists and headed for the door, unable to take being in a room any longer with two happy couples. 

“Dude, you’re leaving already?” Kenny questioned as he pulled his lips away from his boyfriend’s for a moment. 

“Yeah, I’m not feeling well. Sorry. Have a good night, guys.” Stan let out shakily. He certainly looked convincing enough; if the vomit smell on his feet wasn’t enough, there was a paleness to his face that couldn’t be hidden even in the dimmest of light. 

“Oh, ok Stan, I hope you feel better.” Kyle added as he broke his grip on Cartman and came over to give him a platonic hug. “Happy New Year, dude.” 

“Yeah, Happy New Year.”


	2. Chapter 2

It’d been a couple months now since Eric and Kyle began dating and everything was going smoothly, well, as smoothly as a relationship with Cartman and Kyle can go. The two of them tried to keep in on the down low, at least Kyle did, but sometimes they couldn’t help but act couplely, whether it was at the table at lunch, when the four of them were hanging out, or worse yet, that time Kyle accidently butt-dialed him only to hear the sounds of them fooling around. Of course Stan never brought up that call to Kyle, not wanting to embarrass him or make himself remember the details he really didn’t need to hear, like what Cartman sounded like right before he was about to cum in his pants. 

“What did you put for 7?” Kyle asked Stan from his spinning chair. Stan laid on his stomach on the floor and searched his notebook. 

“Uh…C.” He responded, flipping back to where he was. Stan was faster at homework than Kyle, but only because he didn’t care about it as much. Kyle made a contemplative hum. 

“Hmm…I don’t know if it can be C, I put B because you have to take into consideration the answer from part A.” Kyle reasoned. Stan raised his eyebrow.

“Why, what’d you put for A?” He questioned. 

“B.” Kyle said confidently. 

“Shit, I had D. I guess that’s why the next part didn’t make sense.” He concluded. Kyle nodded,

“Yeah. Well at least you know now.” Kyle announced, proud that he could use his knowledge to help out his friend. Ever since Kyle and Cartman had started dating, Kyle felt more comfortable having Stan over. Maybe it was because he wasn’t tempted anymore by the possibility of being with him because he was committed to someone else officially, but either way, Stan was glad he got to see more of his friend again, even if it was just for homework. 

Stan felt his phone vibrate from inside his pocket. He pulled it out to see a text from Lola, well, a selfie. She was wearing a low-cut white tank top that showed off her assets and sporting a confident smile into the camera.

“Jesus, I don’t know why she always sends me these.” Stan told Kyle, showing him his phone screen. Kyle laughed lightly. 

“Well I mean it’s pretty obvious why she chose that pose.” Kyle stated, not overly impressed by her tackiness. “I guess that’s what happens when a good-looking guy becomes single. I mean, a good guy.” Kyle corrected himself, his face becoming flushed from his Freudian slip. Stan couldn’t help but smirk for a brief moment. He was glad that at least Kyle still found him attractive, not that it meant anything now. 

“I guess so. It’s sort of weird though; I’m not used to this much attention.” Stan admitted, realising how little attention girls paid to him when he was with Wendy. Kyle shrugged,  
“It’s not entirely a bad thing, right?” Kyle offered. 

“I guess not.” He said unconvincingly. Stan couldn’t give two shits if every girl in all of South Park wanted him; the one person he truly wanted was unattainable. Stan looked over at the red-head leaning back casually on the chair as he chuckled lightly at something he read on his phone. 

“What is it?” Stan questioned. Kyle shook his head and gave a dismissive hand gesture.

“Oh, nothing. Cartman just always sends me these memes he finds funny. I didn’t used to like them, but they’re growing on me.” Kyle admitted with a smile. Stan never liked to bring up Cartman when they talked, but if the topic did come up, as rare as it was, he figured it was common courtesy to at least carry on the subject a bit since whenever Stan was in a relationship, he brought it up a hell of a lot more than Kyle did. It wasn’t that Stan disliked Eric, in fact, he was one of his best friends, but at this point he was something that stood in the way of the relationship he always pined over. Stan couldn’t help but kick himself whenever he saw the two of them happy together, thinking about how that could have been him if he had smartened up earlier and taken the chance when he had it. 

“So how are things going with you guys anyway?” Stan questioned. Kyle looked up from his phone with a raised eyebrow, and Stan knew why. There was an unspoken understanding between them that Stan wasn’t a huge fan of their relationship, although Kyle still failed to see why. Kyle cleared his throat before answering Stan’s rare question about the two of them.

“Well, it’s going pretty good, actually. You’re probably surprised to hear that.” Kyle added with a smirk, the same one Cartman often does. Stan wondered what other mannerisms Kyle had taken from the brunette. 

“Not too surprised; you haven’t really told me about any problems, so I figured things were going alright.” Stan shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant about it all. 

“If I’m going to be really honest, things are going pretty fucking great. I haven’t been this happy in a long time.” Kyle stated with a dreamy air to his voice. Stan felt a lump form in his throat upon hearing those words. It was then that Stan realised he had to trade a little of his jealousy for genuine care for his best friend. What kind of a person would he be if he was jealous at his relationship for the rest of their friendship? He had no idea how long it would last, but after three months, he was getting tired of being tense.

“That’s awesome, dude.” Stan replied honestly. Even if Stan didn’t like who he was with, he was glad Kyle was happy anyways. Kyle crossed his arms over his chest.

“Really?” He quipped in a higher pitched voice than normal. Stan nodded convincingly. 

“Yeah, dude. I’m glad he can make you happy.” He decided. “But if he ever does anything to hurt you, I’ll fucking pound him to the ground.” Stan said half-jokingly. Kyle rolled his eyes playfully at the raven haired boy, knowing there was a hint of truth behind the dramatic threat. 

“You know that if he ever pulls anything, I can take care of myself.” Kyle reminded the quarterback. Stan let out a laugh,

“That’s true. I think I’ve been hanging around with the football players too much. They always talk shit like that.” Stan explained, looking up at Kyle from his position on the ground. 

“Cartman talks a lot about pounding shit too, but not in the same way as you guys.” Kyle joked dirtily. Stan raised an eyebrow at the reference, not used to Kyle talking about anything sexual. 

“Dude, you can tell you’ve been hanging around Cartman a lot.” Stan reminded him, Kyle turning a light shade of pink after realising what he had almost unconsciously said.   
“Jesus Christ, maybe too much.” Kyle laughed, normal colour returning to his face. Kyle paused for a brief moment as he sat up straight on his chair, “Speaking of that, we’re actually going away to a MUN conference in a couple months to Salt Lake City.” 

It took Stan a couple seconds to remember that MUN stood for Model United Nations, but once he understood the context, he felt his mouth go dry. “Like, just the two of you?” Stan wondered aloud, his voice cracking a bit. 

Kyle shook his head, “No, there’s a group of ten of us. But since Cartman and I aren’t really out, per se, we got lucky enough to get a room together without anyone suspecting anything.” Kyle explained with a smile, “This is probably the only advantage that’s ever come of us being in a secretive relationship.” Kyle added somberly. Stan lowered his head; he figured it must suck for Kyle to be with someone but not be able to tell anyone. He couldn’t imagine what that was like because he’d always been with girls, girls that his parents approved of too. 

“Would your parents be mad because he’s a guy or because he’s Cartman?” Stan questioned, getting his stomach off the floor and instead leaning his back against Kyle’s bedframe. 

“They wouldn’t care that I was with a guy, my parents are pretty accepting of that.” Kyle elaborated, “It’d definitely be because it’s Eric, I mean Cartman. They can’t really see through the shit he’s done in the past.” Kyle went on. Stan couldn’t help but internally cringe at the mention of Cartman’s first name. He wondered when he started calling him that. 

“Yeah, not many people in South Park can.” Stan told him truthfully. “If he wants a decent job, he’ll have to leave town to find it.” 

Kyle nodded, “Won’t we all?” He laughed, “I honestly don’t know any of us who plan on staying here. Don’t get me wrong, I love this town. There are a shit ton of awesome memories we all made, but there’s no future for us here.” Kyle lamented. 

“Yeah, I totally agree.” Stan accepted, “At least we can keep the friends we made here even when we all move away.” He hoped, the emotional part of his mind taking over. Kyle nodded with a smile.

“Of course, dude. I can’t imagine not having you as a best friend. We’ve gone through way too much shit to just stop communicating just because we might end up in different cities.” Kyle expanded, Stan’s face lighting up. 

“Dude, I’m pretty relieved that you said that, to be honest. I was afraid that if you were still with Cartman that you’d…you know, not need me anymore or something.” Stan declared with a sad undertone. Kyle gave him a surprised laugh,

“Stan, why would you ever think that? Just because I’m with Cartman doesn’t mean I don’t need you.” He explained, his green eyes soft with affection. Stan smiled back at him, unable to not mirror his genuine expression. A few moments later, Kyle’s phone lit back up. He swiped it open to check and immediately a sombre expression filled his face.

“Shit, I gotta get over to Cartman’s house.” Kyle expressed, standing up and heading for his closet. 

“What happened?” Stan questioned, packing up his belongings. 

“His mom’s been pretty sick the past month or so. He’s taking her to the hospital now.” Kyle went on frantically as he searched for a jacket. He pulled out a white and green one that when put on made his emerald eyes stand out even more than usual. Stan shot him a surprised look.

“Dude, I hope she’ll be ok.” Stan worried, his heart starting to beat faster at the thought of something happening to such a sweet woman. “But why didn’t he tell me or Kenny?”   
Stan asked, a little taken aback. All four of them had grown up knowing Liane; of course they’d care if something was wrong with her. 

“He doesn’t really want people to know. It’s pretty secretive for now until they figure out what’s wrong with her.” Kyle explained, “I’m sure he’ll tell you guys if it’s anything serious.” The red-head added, heading out of his room, Stan following closely behind him down the hallway. Stan and Kyle went quickly down the stairs and slipped on their shoes, Kyle frantically wondering how he was going to get permission to use the car on such short notice and without telling them about Liane’s condition. 

“Dude, just walk back to my house and I can give you a ride to Hell’s Pass.” Stan whispered. Kyle looked up at him with a hopeful expression. 

“Are you sure?” He questioned closely into his ear. 

“Yeah, why not? It’s not that far.” He stated, hand gripping the doorknob. Kyle’s face lit up momentarily as he wrapped his friend in a quick hug. 

“Thanks Stan. I’ll tell my parents I’m just going back to your house.” Kyle said quietly before running into the kitchen to lie to his parents. Ever since Kyle got in a fender-bended a few months ago, his parents had been overly anal about him using the car to the point where he had to ask permission days in advance to even drive across town, meaning that Stan’s offer was the only way he’d be able to get to the hospital without having to wait a week. Kyle returned quickly from asking his parents with a thumbs up. The two jogged a couple houses down to his, Stan not even bothering to ask his parent’s permission as he pulled out of the driveway and sped towards the direction of the hospital. When they arrived, Kyle let out a long sigh before unbuckling his seatbelt, running his hand nervously under his ushanka. 

“If you’re allowed to let Cartman know that I know, tell him I hope she gets better and that nothing’s seriously wrong.” Stan said in a hurry, unlocking the doors. Kyle placed his hand gently on Stan’s before exiting.

“I’ll let him know.” Kyle told him sincerely, “And again, thanks so much for the ride. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Kyle added before making a quick getaway, waving goodbye as he walked briskly inside the tall white building. Stan sat motionless in the parking lot for a few minutes afterwards, worried about Liane, and also caught up in his old feelings again. Stan couldn’t help but take comments like the ones Kyle made that day to heart because when Kyle liked him, those were the type of things he’d say, but now they didn’t mean the same thing; that was what Stan had trouble accepting. Stan eventually pulled out of the parking lot with a heavy feeling in his stomach, already knowing he’d have trouble falling asleep that night. 

It’d been a few weeks since Mrs. Cartman’s first trip to the hospital and there were many more that followed that. Kyle made a habit of coming over to Stan’s unannounced with an uncertain look on his face asking for a ride, and Cartman made a habit of spending most of his free time there. At that point Cartman knew that Stan knew, considering he was becoming Kyle’s chauffer, but he didn’t mind that too much; he was just glad that he could bring his boyfriend to him in a time of uncertainty. 

“Has the specialist come in yet?” Stan questioned as Kyle climbed in to the passenger’s seat with an exhausted look on his face. Kyle shook his head. 

“Nope. They said probably next week. It’s fucking bullshit to make someone wait that long.” Kyle complained, tilting the seat back and trying to relax a bit. These past few weeks Stan hadn’t actually minded too much; sure it could be annoying at times to drive him everywhere, but he was glad that he could at least spend a bit of time with Kyle, even if it was under horrible circumstances. Stan enjoyed how happy he could make Kyle every time he agreed to give him a ride: it was a false sense of satisfaction, but it got him through the day. 

The two drove home silently with the windows rolled down allowing for a cold breeze to fill the cabin. Not surprisingly, Kyle fell asleep on the short ride home. Once Stan pulled into his driveway, he shook the sleeping red-head vigorously. 

“Kyle, Kyle! Dude, wake up.” Stan repeated. The teen didn’t move. Stan sat in the seat for a little while wondering what to do before he did the first thing that came to mind. He picked up the sleeping boy and carried him into his house, bringing him up the stairs and placing him on his bed, wondering how the hell he didn’t wake up throughout that whole process. The whole family was asleep, considering it was 2:30 on a Wednesday night, so Stan was able to slip in and out unnoticed. Before leaving his room, he observed his lifelong friend in his peaceful state, something he hadn’t seen in a while. It went without saying that since Cartman and Kyle started dating, the two hadn’t spent the night at each other’s houses, but it was definitely something Stan missed. Even when he didn’t reciprocate the feelings for Kyle, he enjoyed just having him there with him, even if neither of them spoke a word. It was the type of thing Stan always loved about Kyle; an unspoken peace that he needed to combat his cynical, sometimes depressed mind, and seeing him in that state made him realise even more how much he missed it. He let out a sigh and showed himself out of the house, using the house key Kyle had given him years ago, wondering if he had given Cartman one too. 

 

It was now the beginning of February, and instead of spending his time wallowing in the fact that Stan wouldn’t have a Valentine for the 14th, he’d been putting his energy into working out more than usual, which was proving to have pretty great results as far as he could see. Kyle stepped off the treadmill from the other side of the room and made his way over to him, using a fresh towel to wipe the sweat off the back of his neck. Mostly all four of the boys used the gym fairly often, Stan being there almost daily, Kyle as much as his studies allowed, and Kenny whenever he felt like he’d eaten enough calories for the day to be able to workout. And Cartman? Well, that’s another story. 

“Stan, can I talk to you about something tonight?” Kyle asked in a low voice. 

“Well yeah.” Stan whispered back with a smile that said “why would you even ask that”? Kyle returned an unsure smile and reached for his bag.

“Ok good. I’ll call you after I’m done my homework, so it’ll probably be later.” He elaborated, swinging the gym bag over his shoulders. 

“That’s fine; I got shit to do too.” Stan reassured. Shortly after Stan prepped his bag and was about to head out, he saw Cartman making his way towards them with a tired expression streaked across his face that had become the norm for him the past few months. With his mom being in the hospital all the time, Cartman decided that it wasn’t practical to be there every day, or to drag Kyle there for that matter, so he settled with going every few days. That still meant he had to take on all the responsibilities his mom had, like cooking and cleaning; doing that shit alone would take a fucking toll on anyone. Luckily for Cartman, Kyle sympathised greatly and was there for him practically every night to help with the cleaning because, well, Kyle was shit in the kitchen. Word got out among their friends group, and soon Sharon and Sheila began cooking casseroles and meatloaves to try to help Eric out; he was grateful, but at the same time reluctant to get help from other people. 

Cartman came up from behind Kyle and wrapped his big arms around his narrow waist, kissing his neck lightly as though to claim him as his own. Kyle accepted the kiss with a lot more ease than he had at the beginning of their relationship, but it also helped that the three of them were the only ones left in the gym. Cartman let go of Kyle and leaned up against a machine, waiting for him to tie his shoes, Stan about to head out the door. As Stan was walking away, he felt a harsh tug on his arm from behind. 

“Wait, Stan; I, uh, kinda want to ask you something.” Cartman stated uneasily. Stan stopped in his tracks, turning around and raising an eyebrow his way. Cartman asking Stan for something? This was weird, really fucking weird. 

“Uh, yeah?” He questioned suspiciously. Cartman leaned in closer and checked to make sure Kyle wasn’t looking his way. 

“God, this is really fucking embarrassing, but…could you, I don’t know, give me some tips on working out shit? Like mostly just for arms.” Cartman finally let out. Stan flashed a smirk his way. 

“So my gym-rat shit’s coming in handy after all?” The raven haired boy scoffed as Eric rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah; I fucking know what I said before, but listen; I know Kyle’d be really impressed if I had some even buffer arms than now. Like no doubt I could beat the shit out of anyone, but I guess it’d be cool for something to show off more, you know?” Eric explained cockily. It was Stan’s turn to roll his eyes.

“God, even when you’re asking for help you sound like a cocky bastard.” Stan fired back.

“Come on Marsh; are you gonna help me or not? Cause if not I can figure something else out.” Eric whined impatiently. Stan wasn’t about to let him have it that easy after all the shit he put him through. 

“Why’d you think to come to me?” Stan asked coyly, observing the buildup of annoyance in his soft brown eyes. 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Cartman scoffed, “’Cause you’re ripped and shit, ok? You fucking knew that; I don’t know why you had to beg for it.” Eric said quietly. Stan couldn’t help but let out a laugh; he didn’t need compliments for shit, all he wanted to do was annoy Eric fucking Cartman for once. 

“Yeah, I’ll help you, dude. Just come here after school around this time; I’m here every day.” Stan concluded, turning back around. Eric grabbed him by the arm one more time and pulled him back.

“Dude, no. I can’t have Kyle see me workout; it has to be a surprise.” Eric added quickly. Stan gave him a dismissive wave of his hand. 

“Fine, I’ll come a little later.” Stan compromised. Eric flash a grin his way. 

“Kewl. See you tomorrow then.” He replied, returning to his lover. Stan still let out a sigh every time he saw them together; even though it’d been months, it still fucking hurt. He wasn’t helping the situation any with training Cartman so he can be even more appealing to Kyle than he already was, but what else was he gonna fucking do? Say no? How petty would that have been? Stan didn’t really have a choice. 

 

“What was it you wanted to talk to me about?” Stan asked into the phone after Kyle had taken a long pause, not sure if he forgot he was on the phone or just thinking about his next words. Stan heard Kyle clear his throat before he began. 

“I, uh…I was sort of wondering about something with relationships.” Kyle stuttered into the phone, clearly uncomfortable with the context of the conversation already. 

“Dude, I don’t know if I’m the right person to ask. I kind of have a shitty track record with that if you haven’t noticed.” Stan told his best friend honestly. Kyle let out a sigh into the phone before beginning again. 

“Well, you’re the closest person I know who’s actually had a lasting relationship, even if it had shitty moments.” Kyle deduced. He paused for a moment longer before proceeding with his actual question, “Stan, how do you know when you’re ready?” 

Stan felt his heart drop in his chest. He knew exactly what Kyle meant, and he didn’t want to hear one word; all he wanted to do was throw up all over the floor, and it fucking felt like he had to. Moments went by without a word from either of them before Kyle stepped in to see if Stan was still conscious. 

“Stan?” He questioned. Stan cleared his throat and clutched the phone tightly in his hands, closing his eyes tight. 

“I think it’s just kind of something you know. I can’t really describe it, but it just feels right, like it’s meant to happen, and if it did, neither of you would look back and think it was too early, but that it was just right.” He finally stated, trying as hard as he could to detach himself and be a good friend. 

“For someone who’s been in shitty relationships, you give good advice.” Kyle joked happily. “And thanks Stan; that makes a lot of sense.” 

Stan shut his eyes even tighter before asking the next question. “So based on that criteria, do you think you’re still ready?” He wondered. There was another long pause before Kyle’s final reply. 

“Yeah, I think I’m ready. I wouldn’t regret it, at least I don’t think I would…”


	3. Chapter 3

The next week at school, Kyle seemed different, at least to Stan. He didn’t dress any different, nor did he say anything about what happened; Stan just knew. Stan narrowed it down to the way he looked at Cartman, as though there was something irresistible about being around him that just made Kyle glow. And as happy as Stan wanted to be for him, he wasn’t. He just figured he was lucky that Kyle wasn’t the type of talk about sexual shit; that’d put him over the fucking top for sure. 

It was nearing the end of February and the boys decided to do something that didn’t involve being cooped up inside: they headed down to Stark’s pond for a bonfire. The four of them sat on logs that surrounded an area of land they cleared for the fire, not having much luck in starting the fire. 

Stan couldn’t help but feel nostalgic; this was the place where he and Kyle would come to hang out or to have deep talks, just the two of them. He swore there were even times when he felt a pull between the two of them, when Kyle would give him that soft look in his emerald eyes that he now gives Cartman. Stan wondered if Kyle remembered any of that now. 

“It’s cold as fuck. Who’s idea was this?” Cartman complained, wrapping his arms around himself. It was strange that Cartman of all people would complain about being cold; he was almost always the one who would let them know if somewhere was too warm. 

“Dude, it’s not that cold.” Kenny admitted, the one who usually bundled up for this type of weather. Cartman just rolled his eyes, realising that no one was going to take his complaint seriously. Kyle saw his look of defeat and brought himself closer to him until he was pressed up against the side of his body. Stan didn’t even bother getting upset by the subtle action; he had made himself numb to it the past few months so that he wouldn’t drive himself crazy. He only wished that he could just let go of the crush altogether so he didn’t have to deal with all the confusing emotions every time he was with them together. 

“So Kenny, did you look into apartments yet?” Kyle questioned, casting his gaze over to their hooded friend. Kenny nodded slightly.

“Yeah, in a way.” He said half-convincingly. “Well, what I really found was that apartments are too damn expensive; it’d be better just to rent a house and split it with the five of us.” He went on, referring to the group of them plus Butters. 

“Yeah, I guess that could work.” Kyle piped up, no one else seeming to object either. 

“Isn’t it crazy that now we’re talking about moving out for college?” Stan added nostalgically, looking around the pond they knew so well as kids. 

“God Stan, don’t go all hippie on us and pull out your guitar and start to sing “Old School” or something.” Eric chimed in, casting him a joking smile. Stan shot him a smirk. 

“Now that you mention it, I probably should have brought it.” Stan added just to play up the thought. Cartman rolled his eyes. 

“Jesus Christ; maybe that stuff works on girls, but I don’t think any of us give two shits.” Cartman laughed. Kyle gave him an uncertain look.

“Stan’s pretty good at guitar; I wouldn’t mind if you brought it out to play sometimes.” Kyle chimed in, giving him a warm smile. Ah, so maybe Kyle did remember some of the times they were at the pond: that was where Stan got his best practice in, without the distractions of his parents or formerly quasi-abusive sister. Kyle would come sometimes just to hear him play. Goddamn, he missed those days. 

Stan returned Kyle’s smile affectionately, maybe a little too affectionately for Cartman’s liking. The larger boy placed his hands on top of Kyle’s and directed his attention back towards him, giving him a peck on the lips to fully take him back from whatever memory trip he was going off on. Stan couldn’t help but draw a comparison as he saw the two of them with the water in the background and an abandoned canoe on the shore. He recalled the time when Cartman tried to “kill” Kyle with a whiffle bat; god how times had changed. 

But then again, had they really? Years later, the thought occurred to Stan that all the stupid shit Cartman did to Kyle as a kid was really just to get his attention and to make him notice him, even if it did mean pissing the hell out of him. Unfortunately for Stan, it seemed in one way or another that it worked. 

Stan saw a thin, pale hand wave across his face and a voice to accompany it.

“Hello?” Kenny piped up. Stan broke his trance and returned back to reality, breaking his gaze away from the happy couple. 

“Goddamn Stan; I thought you’d be over him by now.” Kenny whispered. Stan felt himself go red in the face. Was it that obvious? 

“I thought I’d be too.” He stated, looking at the snowy ground under his feet. Stan felt a light hand on his shoulder as Kenny came to join him on his log. The fire had died long ago; now just the light smell of campfire filled the stale air. 

“Look, I can imagine how hard it’d be for you, but he’s with Cartman now and you just gotta accept that, as shitty as it seems. Aren’t you happy for them?” Kenny pondered, sticking up for his best friend. Stan nodded unconvincingly. 

“Yeah, yeah of course dude, it’s just…” He trailed on, trying not to trip on his own words, “I guess I’m just md at myself more than anything, you know, for letting him go.” Stan admitted. It was the first time he’d ever told anyone that out loud; even if the confession didn’t fix anything, it was nice to have someone else listen to it anyways. Kenny nodded sympathetically. 

“Yeah, I bet that’s rough as shit. But hey, no sense in feeling sorry for yourself; why don’t you give someone else a try?” Kenny questioned with raised, optimistic eyebrows. Stan let out a low laugh.

“I don’t know about that.” He told him honestly. Kenny slapped his back jovially.

“Come on, dude! Like I said before; there’s a fucking list of chicks that’d do anything just to have a date with you.” Kenny assured, “You’re the goddamn quarterback for Christ’s sake.” 

Stan shook his head in disbelief. “Kenny, I’m not over this shit yet.” 

Kenny shrugged his shoulders, “Dude, barely anyone’s ever over someone before they get into a new relationship, trust me.” He assured, “I don’t think one date’s gonna kill you.”  
Stan raised his eyes to Kenny’s as he began to feel more convinced. Even if it didn’t go anywhere, at least it’d be a temporary substitution for feeling sorry for himself. He pondered the thought for a little while, the two of them sitting in silence until he came to a resolution.

“Fine, maybe I’ll try to go on a couple dates, but I don’t expect anything to come from them.” Stan reasoned. Kenny’s bright violet eyes lit up before he gave him a high five. 

“There you go, Marsh.” Kenny piped up, using Cartman’s nickname for him. “And, dude, nothing does have to come from them, you know what I mean?” Kenny jeered. Stan rolled his eyes. 

“I’m not just gonna whore around because I can.” Stan whispered back to Kenny, feeling as though the conversation was getting a little too loud. 

“Pfft,” Kenny scoffed, “Why the fuck not? Honestly, if you want to, just go for it. You don’t have a commitment anymore; revel in that while you’re free.” Kenny instructed. Stan sighed, not knowing what else to add. 

“You really miss being a slut, don’t you?” Stan joked. Kenny narrowed his eyes at the raven haired boy.

“Stan, I’m still a slut, trust me, but just for one person now.” He elaborated with a wink and a flirtatious raise of his eyebrow. 

“Goddammit Kenny.” Stan said with an eye roll, watching Kenny laugh at his ability to make his “vanilla” friend uncomfortable. 

As the four of them headed home, Stan felt a sort of peace. Even if he couldn’t quite move on yet, he was glad that he at least convinced himself to try something new. Maybe Kenny was right, maybe this was exactly what he needed. Either way, all he knew was that all he had to do when he got home was reply back to the girls who had been messaging him for months and hope that they were still as desperate as he was. 

Stan trudged to school the following Monday, still wearing yesterday’s clothes but masked with someone else’s perfume. It was a strong strawberry scent that reminded him of the smell outside a strip club Kenny tried to sneak him in one time. It was a god-awful odour. 

Stan leaned up tiredly against the locker beside Kyle, waiting for him so they could go to their first class together. When Kyle was done grabbing his books, he looked over at Stan and gathered there was something different about him that morning, although Kyle couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. 

“You look…tired.” Kyle assumed, cocking his head at the black haired boy who nearly fell asleep on the cold metal. Stan shook himself awake and forced himself to stand up straight, rubbing his eyes to keep them from shutting. 

“Yeah, I, uh….didn’t get much sleep last night.” He admitted, fixing his red and blue toque and giving a lazy smile to the floor. Kyle gave him a perplexed look but decided to avoid asking any more questions, hoping Stan would admit whatever was making him act weird himself. The two of them waited for the other three to show up before heading to their classes, Cartman being the first of them to come. 

“God, what’s that shitty smell?” Eric remarked, draping his arm around his boyfriend. Stan lifted up his shirt and sniffed it, almost forgetting that he was drenched in it.  
“Stan, I don’t even think that’s a guy’s perfume.” Cartman stated. Stan rolled his eyes.

“I know it’s not, but it’s not mine.” He defended. Kyle shot up estranged eyes at him, confused by his statement. Before Stan had a chance to answer, a tall, red haired girl by the name of Red approached the three of them and positioned herself next to Stan, her mouth near his ear. 

“I had fun last night. Maybe we should do that again sometime.” She whispered seductively into his ear, biting it as she drew herself away. “Bye Stan.” She finished, walking up quickly to catch up with her friends down the hallway. 

Stan closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, avoiding eye contact with the guys at all costs. As alright with it as he was at the time for a temporary fix, he felt like total shit now, and all Red did was call attention to it. God fucking dammit. 

“Stan, did you…?” Kyle trailed on, voice laden with disbelief and disappointment. Interrupted yet again, Kenny came briskly down the hallway with Butters around his arm, making a straight beeline for the football player. 

“So…how’d it go?” He coaxed, winking playfully at his friend. Stan shook his head and let out a sigh.

“Jesus Christ Kenny,” Stan began, trying to avoid the question. He saw that the blond wasn’t going to let it go without some sort of answer, so he came up with something fairly honest, “It, uh…it was fine I guess.” Stan tried to brush aside, purposefully avoiding looking at the red head. Kenny bobbed his head up and down. 

“Nice, dude. I tried to get her in bed for forever.” Kenny reminisced, “I guess she’s into lean muscle over scrawny shits like me.” Kenny laughed to himself, Stan shaking his head. 

“Dude, we didn’t fuck; I barely know her.” Stan emphasised, catching a relieved look on Kyle’s face from the corner of his eye. 

“Either way, she’s pretty hot; good job on landing that one.” Kenny rephrased.

“Wait, how’d you know anyways?” Stan wondered, leaning his hip against the nearest locker. Kenny shrugged,

“The girls gossip like crazy; if something happens within their clicky-ass friends circle at noon, everyone will know about it by 12:05, guaranteed.” Kenny explained, “I guess it’s a good thing I told you that, might come in handy to know.” The blond suggested, returning his gaze to his boyfriend. The five of them walked down the hall, but right before they went into their English homeroom, Eric pulled Stan aside. 

“So are we still on for working out tonight?” The brunette questioned quietly. Stan nodded.

“Yeah, sure.” He sighed, still ashamed that his whole friends group, and possibly the whole school, knew about what went on between him and Red on the weekend. Cartman gave him a quick closed mouth smile. 

“Kewl, thanks slut.” He joked, hitting him on the back before he walked into the classroom. Stan bit his lower lip hard and tried to ignore the comment, not particularly mad at Cartman, but at himself for stooping to such levels. Stan swore from that moment on that he wouldn’t do anymore one-night stands, even if they didn’t include sex; it was still something he was uncomfortable with. 

Surprisingly, working out alongside Cartman was something Stan didn’t mind half as much as he thought he would. The two of them had been doing it off and on together for the past little while, and Stan could see him slowly improving, or so he thought. 

“Did you like, lose weight or something?” Stan questioned, observing a slight difference in his physique. He didn’t mean to check him out or anything, but when he saw him in shorts and sleeveless shirts, it was a lot more noticeable. Cartman gave Stan an uncertain look, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Yeah, I think a bit. I don’t really know why but I haven’t been that hungry recently. Weird shit, man.” Eric went on, picking up a thirty pound weight in his right arm and beginning to curl it. Stan had shown him some basic exercises the first few days they began training together, so now all Cartman really needed Stan for was to spot him occasionally.

“So Kyle still doesn’t know you’ve been coming here?” Stan questioned between leg presses, beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead. 

“Nah, not yet. The Jew’s too busy with his tutoring and school shit after school to wonder what I do between five and six every day.” Eric elaborated, feeling out of breath already.

“For fuck’s sake; you’d think the more I workout the less tired I’d be between sets. God fucking dammit.” He cursed, clenching his hands into tight balls. 

“Dude, it’s fine. You’re doing great.” Stan huffed, taking a sip of his water. Cartman rolled his chocolate eyes at the ebony haired boy. 

“Christ, I hope this pays off.” 

A couple more weeks had past, but good news had finally arrived. It turned out that Liane actually had tumours, yet they turned out not to be cancerous. 

“Dude, why didn’t you tell anyone?” Stan asked Cartman as the two of them walked down the deserted school hallway after they finished their workout and headed for the change room. Cartman remained expressionless. 

“I dunno, I guess I figured it wasn’t a big deal.” He explained. Stan raised one of his thick eyebrows his way.

“It is a fucking big deal; it’s your mom.” Stan began, “Not to mention the fact that I was Kyle’s chauffer all those times I took him to the hospital to be with you. I was wondering why I wasn’t needed as much…” He trailed on. 

“Well, now you know. She’s been fine; ever since they told her the tumours weren’t cancerous, she said I didn’t have to bother coming, which worked out fucking great for me. Meant I had the whole house to myself and I could invite whoever I wanted over whenever, if you know what I mean.” Cartman jeered, elbowing Stan in the ribs. Stan let out a half-smile and rolled his eyes; what was he supposed to do, congratulate him on fucking the guy he still had a crush on? 

“Well I’m glad you know she’s fine again.” Stan concluded as he opened the door to the empty locker room. 

“Yeah, me too. Only thing is now I won’t be able to have Kyle over as much.” Cartman teased. Stan yanked open his locker and pulled his fresh clothes out to change into, whipping off his sweaty shirt and tossing it aggressively onto the floor. 

“Yeah, that must suck.”

 

“Stan, have you noticed anything different about Cartman recently?” The red-head questioned as he spun around to face his friend who was sitting on the edge of his bed, open textbook sprawled over his thighs. 

“Different how?” He questioned, wondering if he did in fact notice the difference a month of working out can make. 

“Physically mostly. I’m not sure if it’s just me, that’s why I asked you.” Kyle went on, chewing on the end of a pencil as he often does in concentration. 

“Like how he looks more muscular?” Stan offered. Kyle nodded with a smile.

“Yeah, that. Mostly in his arms, and he looks thinner too. Do you know why, or how?” He asked, cocking his head to the side. Stan raised his eyebrows and shot his friend a smile.

“Ha, so it has been paying off.” Stan replied, still giving no information. Kyle opened his green eyes wide. 

“Stan, for fuck’s sake, what’s been paying off?” Kyle called out with a smile still streaked across his face. 

“Ok, ok, fine. He told me not to tell you, but I helped him learn some exercises and we’ve been working out after school almost every day together after you leave.” He finally explained. 

Kyle smiled to himself, “I don’t know why he wouldn’t want me to know, but I guess that’s cool. I mean, I liked how he looked before, but if he’s doing it to get healthier, I’m all for that.” He elaborated.

“He’s doing it for you, dude.” Stan told him honestly. Kyle’s immediate reaction was to turn red in the face and look away from Stan, Stan thinking about how fucking cute he was when he did that. 

“Well, I guess that works too.” Kyle laughed, returning his gaze from the floor to his friend. Kyle paused for a few moments as if he was trying to recall something.

“But Stan, I mean some other changes too.” He added with a more concerned look. Stan raised an eyebrow.

“Like what?” He wondered. 

“Well, for example how he seems to have to go to the bathroom a lot now, like really fucking often. Normally I wouldn’t give two shits, but I mean it’s a lot more than before.” Kyle elaborated. Stan wasn’t quite sure what to make of his new discovery. 

“Is that it?” he questioned. Kyle shook his head.

“No, there’s more.” He started, “I noticed there are days when his feet, and sometimes even his face, look puffy.” Kyle went on. 

“Like swelling?” Stan clarified, thinking back to their times at the gym and realising that he had noticed that a few times before too. 

“Yeah, exactly. I don’t know why though. Maybe I’m just overreacting.” Kyle reasoned, leaning back on his chair and trying to calm himself down. 

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.” Stan concluded, attempting to calm his friend’s nerves. Kyle let out a long sigh before turning around to continue his work. 

“I hope so.” 

 

Stan lied to himself. As much as he wanted to think that one one-night stand was enough, it wasn’t. He still had feelings for Kyle, and nothing seemed to change that; the only thing he could do to cope with it was to find a quick fix that would distract him, even for just one night. He felt as shitty about it as it sounded. He was definitely not cut out for the same life Kenny was accustomed to before he started dating Butters, but it was an easy life that fulfilled him for the moment, and for some reason, that’s all he seemed to care about. 

“Agg----, mmmm….” He trailed on as he thrusted himself hard against Tammy, sending waves of pleasure through his body that he hadn’t felt since… a few days ago with, Lola? Annie? He couldn’t remember. Stan tossed his head back and clenched the bed sheets with his rough, callus hardened hands, knowing that he wasn’t going to last much longer inside of her. Soon after, he pulled out quickly, cumming into the condom and flopping down on the bed beside her a few moments later, tearing off the sticky, yellow-ish latex substance that surround his now limp cock. He missed the garbage by a mile, but he didn’t give two fucks; she’d clean it up in the morning. 

Tammy brought her reddened face beside Stan’s and cuddled close to him, her breasts touching his bare chest. Stan wasn’t quite sure what to do in return, so he settled with wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close; he learned that this is the type of shit girls like. And no, he didn’t do it so that maybe he’d have a chance to date Tammy at some point in the future, or even so that she’d think he was a decent guy- it was simply just in case he wanted to fuck her again at some point in the future, which he most likely would, considering she wasn’t half bad at it. Sure she had a decent rack, but he honestly couldn’t care less. She was just another fix that got him nowhere; a temporary void filler that he would feel like shit about five minutes after his climax, which he was already feeling. 

Stan learned that he had to spend the night with girls like this. With his parents arguing more and more recently, it was easy for him to go unnoticed, and for Patty whose parents were out of town, he really felt like he had no choice; Kenny was right, word spread around that group like wildfire, and he didn’t want to be known as “that” guy, even though he essentially was now. It’d come to the point where he wouldn’t mention it to Kenny, or Kyle, or Cartman; it was kind of a fact at this point around the school and there was nothing Stan could do to stop it, except of course to stop fucking all the girls, but he didn’t see that happening any time soon. But Stan wasn’t an idiot about it; he always made sure the girls were on birth control and did it with a condom every single time, even though he knew it felt much better without. The last thing he wanted was an STD or a baby; he barely even wanted these fucking girls. 

On another note, Kyle and Cartman seemed happier and happier by the day, but it still didn’t discourage Stan from trying to be a good friend to both of them. Cartman and him still worked out, and Stan definitely started noticing the things Kyle was talking about: the swelling, the bathroom breaks, and even some new stuff that was coming up. It seemed that Cartman was almost always tired and sore, not to mention short of breath, which was very strange for someone who was looking healthier by the day. Both Kyle and Stan were perplexed and even suggested that he see a doctor, but he always refused, saying that there was nothing wrong. 

 

“So, how was last night with Tammy?” Kyle asked, not looking up from his highlighted notes as he laid down on Stan’s bedroom floor. Stan rolled his dark blue eyes and sighed,  
“I don’t really want to talk about it, and I don’t think you really want to hear it.” He replied honestly. Kyle raised a red eyebrow his way.

“Then why do you do it if it makes you so uncomfortable?” Kyle questioned. Stan felt more hurt by the question than anything else, mostly because it called attention to his own insecurities. 

“I don’t fucking know, ok?” He went on, tired of getting the third degree from so many people at school, let alone from Kyle, the guy he was doing all this because of as an attempt to try to get over, which, by the way, wasn’t working one fucking bit. Kyle let out a sigh, clenching his pencil tighter in his hands. 

“Ok, I won’t ask.” He concluded, realising the issue was a lot deeper than he thought. “It just… doesn’t seem like you, Stan. I mean, I know you better than anyone else, or at least I like to think I do, but when you go around doing shit like this, it makes me wonder if you’re the guy I thought you were.” He stated with a saddened voice. Right then, Stan felt his breath get caught in his throat, unable to exhale properly. This was the main reason he felt so ashamed of it; because of what Kyle would think of him. Hell, Cartman could think what he wanted, even Kenny for that matter, but Kyle? He was someone whose opinion meant the world, and when he told him he was acting like a fuck up, he really took it to heart.

“It’s not like I announce it to you; you just hear it from other people.” He defended, trying to salvage the bit of his character. Kyle shook his head and let out a dissatisfied laugh.

“I know you don’t, but people around school talk about it enough that you don’t have to.” Kyle elaborated. Stan shot him a hurt glance.

“And what? Now that people see me as this whore you don’t want to associate with me or some shit?” Stan deduced, slamming his textbook shut on his lap. Kyle gave him a deflated sigh.

“No, and you know that.” Kyle reasoned. “Listen, maybe no one else is saying anything because it’s really not a big deal to them, but I know it must be to you. All my life that I’ve known you, you’ve always been in a relationship or wanted one, and so you doing this? I just can’t imagine you being happy with this shit going on in your life.” Kyle went on, softening his gaze. Stan couldn’t help but let down his guard. His initial anger faded and his deprivation started to set in. The black haired boy lowered his head and let out a long breath. 

“Yeah, you’re right. I feel like shit every time it happens.” Stan told him honestly. Kyle got up from the chair and joined him on his bed, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, you’re still my best friend and nothing’s going to change that, no matter how much of a whore you become.” Kyle said as a lighthearted joke, “But in all seriousness, I only called you out on your shit because I love you and I hate seeing you like this. Maybe you fooled everyone else, but I knew there was something wrong.” Kyle continued, hitting all of Stan’s sensitive spots. God fucking dammit Kyle, why do you make me feel this way? Stan wondered. Why do you care so goddamn much? Stan had to admit that it was sweet as hell, but it fucked with his emotions beyond belief.

Stan gave his friend a friendly sideways smile and wrapped him in a hug. “Thanks, dude. I’m glad you’re not afraid to call out my bullshit.” He laughed.

“Someone has to.” Kyle joked back. “But hey, instead of potentially getting STDs, why don’t you get back into something else that makes you happy?” Kyle suggested optimistically.

“Like what?” Stan questioned, both of them looking around his room. Kyle pointed to the large wooden instrument in the corner.

“How about your guitar?” He asked with a hopeful tone. Stan flashed a bright smile. 

“Yeah, I guess I could give it a try.” Stan shrugged, getting up to get the acoustic instrument and bringing it back to his bed. “Any requests?” Stan asked the red-head as he tuned the guitar after such a long time of it resting idle against his wall. Kyle tilted his head in thought, unable to come up with anything off the top of his head. 

“Can’t think of anything right now; whatever you’re feeling.” He offered, leaning his back against the wall. Stan searched his mind for a minute or so while he tuned it until he finally came up with a classic that always gave him good vibes. He positioned the guitar in his lap, reached for the pick inside his bedside table drawer, and placed his other hand around the neck, readying his fingers on the strings. He then began to strum, the whole song coming back to him. After he felt comfortable with the strumming, he decided to add in the lyrics, clearing his throat before he got into it. 

“Carry on my wayward son. They’ll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest; don’t you cry no more.” He sang quietly, somewhat nervous. He didn’t bother looking up at Kyle until the long riff was over, but he was glad to see that when he raised his head to look up from the instrument that his friend was enjoying the music, nodding his head back and forth to the beat. 

“Once I rose above the noise and confusion, just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion, I was soaring ever higher, but I flew too high.” The boys sang out together, putting extra emphasis on the word “higher” just as Stan’s dad did when they were kids. Once they finished the song, Stan put down the guitar and let out the exhale he’d been keeping in all night. 

“Feels good to play again.” He told his friend, fiddling with the pick in his hands. Kyle chuckled as he got up to get his backpack, tossing it over his shoulder as he headed for the door. 

“Yeah, I bet.” He began, “Kind of makes you want to break a million points again, huh?” Kyle smiled brightly, Stan laughing in return. The two made their way downstairs, Stan opening the door to show him out, but not before Kyle wrapped him in a tight, unexpected hug. 

“Spend your time doing that instead of fucking random chicks please.” He told him as he released him from the embrace. Stan nodded with certainty. 

“Don’t worry; I’m done with that shit.” Stan assured, actually meaning it that time. Right before Kyle was about to head out, his phone lit up and he stopped to read it. 

“What happened?” Stan questioned in a panic as he saw Kyle’s expression change from relieved to shock within seconds. 

“I-it’s Cartman. Liane said he’s in the hospital.” Kyle stuttered. Stan’s eyes went wide as he ran back in the house and snatched the keys off the kitchen table, swinging a light coat over his shoulders. 

“Let’s go.” Stan announced, shaking Kyle out of his state of shock and pulling him towards the car. Neither of them had any idea as to what it was, but for some reason they both had a bad feeling.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God, finally we get some Style. And uh, well, not such good news for Cartman

“Goddammit, mom, why’d you let them all I know I was here?” Cartman whined as he laid uncomfortably in his hospital bed, white sheets draped over his now thinner form. Liane gave a surprised look at her son, shaking her head slowly.

“Eric, don’t you want your friends to be with you when you’re ill?” She questioned in her soft-spoken voice. Eric rolled his eyes in defeat. 

“I’m not sick though; they don’t need to be here.” Cartman repeated, looking around the room at the four boys surrounding his bed. “I’m seriously you guys, I’m fine.” 

Kyle raised a red eyebrow his way, “Cartman, then why did your mom text us all?” 

“Because she fucking overreacts, that’s why.” Eric elaborated, clenching the white sheets tightly in his hands in frustration. The four boys turned their attention to Liane, silently asking her the question as to why Cartman was lying in the hospital bed instead of in his room at home. 

“Eric sweetie, you fainted going up the stairs.” Liane reminded him gently, placing a soothing hand on his cheek. 

“Dude, you fainted?” Stan reiterated, everyone turning their attention back to Eric. 

“Guys, stop! I fainted, so what? I didn’t eat much that day; I was probably just dehydrated or something. No need to fucking lose your shit.” Cartman defended, already tired of the third degree. Kyle walked over to the bed and looked down at him with concern in his eyes, a look Kyle gave whenever his nurturing side took over. 

“Why were you dehydrated?” Kyle questioned, his voice a little weak. 

“Kahl, honestly, I just didn’t drink enough; it’s fine.” He said a little softer tone, reaching his hand out from under the sheet and grabbing Kyle’s. 

“Please just… make sure you drink enough.” He pleaded, his voice uncertain. Eric clenched Kyle’s hand and let out a laugh.

“God, fine. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.” He promised, watching his mom re-enter the room, not even having realised that she left. Liane walked swiftly over to her son’s beside and brushed a few strands of his light brown hair out of his face. 

“Eric, they want you to stay overnight for observation and they’d like to get some blood work done on you.” Liane told him, a look of concern returning to her face. Eric let out a long sigh and flopped back on the bed. 

“Fine, as long as it’ll make everyone stop fucking worrying so much.” Cartman let out, Liane cringing at his curse words yet saying nothing to stop them. “Sorry guys, you can go home. False alarm.” He added, looking around the room at his friends. 

“Well, I’m glad it wasn’t anything serious. That scared the hell out of me.” Kenny quipped, coming over to his bed and giving him a quick hug before he and Butters headed out.   
Stan followed them after saying a quick goodbye and waited in the hallway for Kyle, giving him some alone time with his boyfriend. Once Kyle emerged a couple minutes later, the two walked silently back to the car, both with heavy thoughts on their minds. 

The two of them drove back from the hospital with the windows down, allowing the late winter air to fill the cabin, keeping them both from falling asleep. There was a heavy silence that night, coupled with a realisation that they had gone back and forth to the hospital too many times this past year already, yet this time it wasn’t for Cartman’s mom, but for Cartman himself. 

“Stan, do you believe Cartman?” Kyle asked as they neared his house. Stan let out a long sigh. 

“I don’t know. I want to, but I’m not sure.” Stan told him honestly. 

“Yeah, me neither.” Kyle sighed, gazing vacantly out the window. “I don’t think if there was anything wrong that he’d let anyone know either; that’s what’s scary.” Kyle went on.

Stan pulled into his driveway and unlocked the doors, waiting for the red-head to exit. After quite a while of Kyle sitting idle on the passenger’s seat, Stan brought him back to reality as he laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 

“If you need to talk or something, just text me, ok?” Stan reminded him, his statement causing a minimal smile to cross Kyle’s distraught face. 

“Ok, thanks Stan.” Kyle let out, giving him a quick nod before hoping out and schlepping inside, waving him goodbye as he pulled out of the driveway. 

Neither of them slept that night. Instead, they began a full-fledged texting conversation, typing in all his symptoms and came up with possible illnesses he could have, each one seeming progressively worse. This went on for hours, Stan answering less and less periodically as he kept drifting in and out of sleep. 

Kyle: I’m sorry Stan; you can go to sleep. I’m done playing doctor for the night. I’m tired of everything saying that he’s going to die.

Stan: Dude, that’s what it always says online. Don’t worry, he’s not gonna die. 

Kyle: How can you be sure?

Stan: It’s Cartman; he’s a resilient fuck- he can handle anything. You know that. 

Kyle: Yeah, I guess so. 

Stan: My eyes can’t stay open anymore; I have to go to sleep. Goodnight. And please stop worrying.

Kyle: I’ll try, but I don’t think it’ll work. 

Stan: Just go to sleep. You can’t change anything by worrying. 

Kyle: You’re right. Goodnight Stan. 

Stan: Night Kyle. 

 

Weeks passed with no visible signs of improvement. Stan was particularly susceptible to notice Cartman’s changes due to their workout regime, whereas Kyle and Kenny tended to see him in a more relaxed environment. 

“Dude, are you sure nothing came back about those blood tests you took a while back?” Stan asked between sets of squats accompanied by a barbell. Stan put the weight down and went to spot Cartman who was lying down, waiting for him to come near. Lately, Stan’s job as a spotter was vital; without his close attention, there would have been many times when Cartman would have seriously hurt himself from letting go of it and it falling right on his chest. 

“No Marsh, it’s fine. Nothing came back.” Eric repeated for the hundredth time, not only to Stan, but to everyone who began to notice his physical changes. His appetite had almost completely disappeared, he was always tired as hell even with ample sleep, his feet and face continued to swell for no reason, he would throw up without warning, he went to the bathroom three times as much as any normal person would, and he even started getting strange rashes and uncontrollable urges to itch—what were the guys supposed to think? 

“Fine.” Stan let out, defeated. He watched the now much slimmer guy try his hardest to lift the fairly light weight, breaking a sweat and panting all the while. 

“We can stop whenever you’re tired.” Stan offered, already knowing Cartman wouldn’t do anything more than roll his eyes, which is exactly what he did. 

After his set was done, Cartman sat up to catch his breath, bending over and placing his hands on his knees. Stan brought him some water, which he devoured quickly, yet something else was amiss. This was more than his typical blight of fatigue; Cartman’s face started to go white and his eyes began to flutter open and closed. Stan ran behind him, knowing what usually followed an episode like that, and he was right. Cartman fainted and fell right into Stan’s arms, Stan not knowing what to do in his state of panic. The two of them were the only ones left in the gym. Stan figured he could call 911, but by the time they would arrive, he could have already made it to the hospital. He made a decision there to take matters into his own hands. 

Stan lifted up the limp body of his friend and flung him over his broad shoulders, walking as fast as he could in the direction of his car. He placed Cartman in the back and sped away, knowing that if he got pulled over for speeding, he could easily explain to Barbrady the situation; that was one of the benefits of living in a small town. When Stan arrived at the hospital, he checked Cartman in immediately, the nurses scrambling to get him medical attention right away. Once he was taken care of, Stan made some calls and waited apprehensively in the waiting room for word from the doctor. 

Liane was the first to arrive, followed by Kenny and Butters, and later Kyle, who Stan figured had to fight to get possession of the car for the night. The four boys sat silently in the waiting room after having asked Stan exactly what happened, not knowing what else to do besides pray that there was nothing seriously wrong with him. Yet in the back of all their minds, they knew whatever was going on was a thousand times more serious than Cartman had made it out to be. 

The hours passed as they all waited, people coming in and out of the room multiple times with mockingly happy smiles stretched across their faces. At last, a tall, dark haired middle-aged man with a stethoscope around his neck appeared with a stoic expression on his face, likely from years of delivering news, good and bad. 

“Are you all here for Eric Cartman’s results?” The doctor asked monotonously. Everyone immediately got up and brushed off their exhaustion. 

“Yes, sir.” Liane said quietly, approaching the man quickly. “Please, can you tell me what’s wrong with my Eric?” She pleaded, holding back tears. The doctor placed a hand on her shoulder and directed his gaze towards the boys behind her. 

“I’d like you all to come in my office.” He suggested, everyone following closely behind. The doctor closed the door as everyone began to take seats around the crowded room, awaiting his diagnosis. 

“I’m afraid it’s bad news.” The man announced. Everyone’s heart dropped simultaneously. “Eric, is, well… in a pretty developed state of renal failure.” The doctor finally let out. 

“What?” Kyle questioned, standing up and approaching his desk. “I thought you guys took a blood test months ago. Wouldn’t it have shown that in the results?” He explained, his face white as snow. 

The doctor let out a small laugh, “Well, uh…funny story behind that. You see, we accidently misplaced Eric’s blood sample and mistook another healthy man’s blood for his.”

Kyle’s lip curled up and his fingers tightened around the desk. “Are you saying that you tested the wrong fucking blood? That Eric thought he was fine all this time because you guys told him everything was okay?!” Kyle bellowed, his voice beginning to rise. The doctor stepped back from the desk, his expression turning to one of panic. 

“I assure you it was an honest mistake.” The man quivered, his eyes wide with guilt. 

“An honest mistake? A fucking mistake that cost him his life!” Kyle screamed, balling his hands into fists. Stan and Kenny came running to the red-head, each of them grabbing an arm to make sure he didn’t do anything he’d regret later. 

“Kyle; there’s nothing they can do about it now.” Kenny whispered, his voice weak. Kyle broke free from their grips and looked at them hard in the face before his eyes began to redden. He lowered his head and brought his hands up to his face, spinning around and exiting the room, slamming the door behind him. Everyone let out a long sigh, figuring there was no point of following him. Liane burst into tears, Stan, Kenny and Butters comforting her, but it wasn’t long before all four of them lost their shit. The doctor sat speechless behind his desk, unable to know what to say to comfort them. There really was nothing he could say; his disease at that state was almost certainly terminal. 

 

“Kyle, dude, you have to get out of here. You’ve been here since school ended.” Stan reminded his overly tired friend who was practically falling asleep at the foot of his boyfriend’s hospital bed. Kyle looked up at Stan and rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. 

“Stan, I can’t. What if he wakes up?” Kyle said weakly. Stan approached Kyle and sat down beside him, trying not to creak the bed too much and wake Cartman. 

“Dude, this has been going on for weeks. Don’t you think he knows you care about him? He’s not gonna think any less of you if you don’t spend every minute of free time with him.” Stan urged Kyle, looking softly into Kyle’s green eyes. Kyle let out a sigh as he turned to look at his sleeping boyfriend. 

“I know he won’t, but I’d feel like shit.” Kyle admitted, gripping Cartman’s hand from under the bed sheets. 

“Well you shouldn’t; you see him more than all of us combined.” Stan elaborated. “You’re allowed to leave the hospital once in a while.” He continued, hoping to persuade his friend to take a step outside so he could breathe uncontaminated air for the first time in what seemed like years. Ever since Cartman’s diagnosis, he’d been on dialysis and receiving other forms of treatment, none of them responding to his body. Kenny and Butters came to visit him right after school with Kyle and Stan taking over what their shift afterwards, Kyle staying much later than Stan, sometimes even overnight. It was an exhausting schedule for all of them, and Kyle never gave himself a break. 

A few more minutes passed of Kyle’s silent contemplation before he finally breathed an answer. “It’s Friday tonight, isn’t it?” 

Stan let out a smile, glad he could finally get him talking about something other than illness. “Yeah, it is. Is there anywhere you’d want to go?” He questioned. 

Kyle shrugged his shoulders, “Not really anything in particular. I guess just anywhere where I can get all this shit off my mind.” 

Stan pondered for a few moments before coming up with something, “How about to see a movie?” The raven haired boy suggested with an air of optimism. Kyle raised an apprehensive eyebrow, seemingly unsure about the idea. 

“I’m not asking you on a date, dude.” He laughed, amused by the thought, “It’s just an idea; if you can think of something else, that’s fine too.” Stan continued. 

Kyle let out a long breathe and dropped his shoulders, “Actually that sounds great, as long as we see something funny. I don’t need any more depressing shit.” 

Stan nodded in agreeance, “Yeah, of course.” He began, getting up to stretch, “I’ll let you say goodnight or whatever; meet me at my car in the parking lot when you’re done.” Stan finished, heading out the door after Kyle agreed to the plan. A couple minutes later, Kyle showed up at Stan’s car with a look of uneasiness on his face, no doubt from the guilt he was feeling for leaving Cartman alone for the night. Stan didn’t bother to try to lecture him on the fact that he probably wouldn’t even wake up for hours, so instead he just drove silently, letting the radio music fill the space. 

In a turn of events, the movie turned out to be a success. Stan was glad to finally see a smile on Kyle’s face and to hear him laugh for the first time in a while. When the two exited and made their way back to the car, Kyle let out a sigh before buckling his seat, giving Stan a genuine smile. 

“Thanks for the idea. I think it really helped.” Kyle added, gripping Stan’s hand quickly and then releasing it as though he had just touched a hot stove. 

“Yeah; you need to get out once in a while and not feel like shit about it. There’s no point of you being cooped up in Hell’s Pass being depressed all the time.” Stan declared, starting the engine. 

“Pfft, like you’re one to talk about coping well with depressing situations.” Kyle scoffed half-jokingly. “But I do see your point. I should probably try to get out more, even just for a couple hours while he’s sleeping.” Kyle reasoned, Stan nodding at the idea. 

“Yeah; that’s probably what’s best.” Stan added, still slightly taken aback by Kyle’s comment about his coping mechanisms. Kyle softened his gaze at Stan, sending him a half-ass smirk. 

“You know I was just kidding, Stan. You’ve been really good with that stuff lately, from what I know.” Kyle continued, “You haven’t slept with anyone else, have you?” The red-head wondered. Stan laughed and shook his head. 

“No way, dude. That shit’s not worth it for me.” Stan told him honestly, Kyle giving a sideways smile in return. 

“Did you actually stop right after I suggested you to?” Kyle asked again, Stan raising his eyebrow at the question being presented a second time. 

“Yeah, I already said that.” He added again. Kyle leaned back in the passenger’s seat, the smirk still etched on his face. 

“I’m glad I can be such a strong influence on you.” Kyle joked cockily, his statement causing Stan to turn slightly pink out of embarrassment, Stan just glad that it was dark and Kyle couldn’t see his change in pigment. 

“Yup, I guess so.” Stan tried to play off, Kyle still looking satisfied with himself. Had Kyle figured out his secret? Nah, no way. Stan wasn’t that obvious, right? 

 

More time passed slowly by. Spring had arrived, but that meant so did a shitload of other things. Kenny was looking for jobs in the new city they were going to move to, just trying to pass his classes so he could graduate. Butters was studying hard so he could get into his accounting program, Kyle doing the same for his pre-med. Stan’s scholarship was practically in the bag; all he needed to do was play well at a couple more games and he had a full-ride. Their lives were all hectic as fuck, but they had nothing on the shit Cartman had to go through. The treatments were still failing; every doctor seeming to know less and less what to do with him. He was wasting away before their eyes, his form barely recognisable anymore. They all knew what was coming, but they tried to make the situation as bearable as possible. 

The guys still came in on an almost daily basis. They watched TV shows, bitched about people at school, played poker, and just tried as hard as they could to make the situation as normal as possible for Cartman. The only difference between before and then was that now Cartman could barely keep his eyes open for an entire game and would sometimes go short of breath in the middle of his sentences. So actually, a lot had changed. 

Kyle sat on a chair in Eric’s room with an open textbook in his lap, trying to study with the dim hospital lights illuminating the stuffy room. Stan closed his notebook and stood up to stretch, his legs sore from football practice, and felt a sudden pang of dryness in his throat. 

“Kyle,” Stan whispered to him from across the tiny room. Kyle looked up, his eyes having a lifeless, zombie-like air to them. 

“Yeah?” He whispered back hoarsely, stuffing the stray red curls back under his hat. 

“You thirsty?” He questioned. Kyle nodded. Both of them wordlessly got up and headed down to the hospital café on the first floor for some tea, leaving the sleeping patient behind to rest. This had become pretty routine for them, so much so that the lady at the café already knew their orders and had their drinks ready. 

“Thanks Liz.” Stan laughed dryly as he left the change on the counter for the barista, the old women smiling affectionately at him. 

“I think she likes you.” Kyle laughed tiredly, taking the first sip of his tea. Stan flashed his friend a broad smile and shook his head. 

“Nah, she’s just nice to everyone.” Stan figured, recalling his past experiences with the kind, grey-haired lady. Kyle raised an eyebrow. 

“I don’t think she stares at all her customers like that.” Kyle added, pointing subtly to the day dreamy gaze she was casting Stan’s way. Stan couldn’t help but laugh quietly under his breath. 

“Well I guess if I’m ever feeling really desperate…” He joked, not wanting to turn around and embarrass her. Kyle and Stan sipped their teas quietly, both of them tired beyond belief, yet Kyle seemed to have something weighing on his mind that was from more than a lack of sleep, seeing as he’d been staring into his empty cup for quite some time. 

“You thinking about something dude?” Stan questioned, chucking his cup into the recycling bin. Kyle looked up as though he had just awoken from a dream. 

“Oh what? Oh, well, uh, not really.” He struggled to say. Stan raised an eyebrow his way. 

“Kinda sounds like it.” He told him honestly. Kyle let out a sigh as he crumpled his cup in his hands, tossing it into the bin as well. 

“It’s nothing much, it’s just…” He trailed on, “Never mind, I shouldn’t really say.” Kyle finished, folding his hands over each other on the table. Stan looked up at him with sincere eyes,

“Kyle, you can tell me anything. I won’t judge; you know that.” Stan reminded the red-head. After a little while of contemplation, Kyle finally began to speak what was troubling him. 

“It’s just…well, as you can probably guess, ever since Cartman’s diagnosis, I’ve been feeling pretty lonely. I miss him, Stan. I miss being able to go out with him, to do things with him that didn’t revolve around sitting around his hospital bed.” Kyle choked out, his breaths becoming choppy. 

“It’s not his fault, and I know that. It’s just…hard. It’s fucking hard. I miss what we had, back when he was healthy, and…and I don’t think he’ll ever be that way again. It fucking sucks.” He went on, his eyes filled to the brim with tears that hadn’t yet escaped. Stan didn’t know what to do besides wrap his trembling friend in a hug, feeling Kyle’s warm tears fall on his shoulders. Kyle held onto Stan tightly, allowing months of pent up emotion to be released, Stan impressed that this was the first time he’d seen him break down. 

“Kyle, I don’t know how you do it. You’re so fucking strong. If I were in your position I’d be a fucking mess. It’s hard enough seeing him deteriorate like that as one of my best friends, but I can’t even imagine what it’d be like if he was my boyfriend too.” Stan admitted, feeling Kyle’s grip tighten around him. Kyle brought his fingers up to wipe some tears out from under his eyes before speaking again, trying to regain his normal breathing pattern. 

“Thanks, Stan.” He let out. “I think you being here with me through all this has helped a lot, actually.” Kyle admitted with a broken smile. 

“Of course, dude. I’d do anything for you and Cartman.” Stan said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder and returning the weak smile. Stan noticed that a stray tear falling down Kyle’s cheek and, as though unconsciously, placed his hand gently on Kyle’s cheek and wiped away the tear with his thumb. As Stan went to take his hand away from Kyle’s face, their eyes locked in a way they hadn’t in a long time. Stan remembered that look; he remembered it like the back of his hand. Stan and Kyle both swallowed simultaneously, adverting their eyes from each other as Stan brought his hands back to himself, placing it in his pocket. 

“You wanna head back up to the room?” Stan questioned quietly. Kyle nodded, letting out a slow breath. 

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.” 

 

“Ha, the one good thing about being sick as shit is not having to do homework. Jesus Christ you guys have a lot.” Cartman said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. Kyle broke a smile,

“Yeah; they say they want to prepare us for university and shit.” Kyle replied, dropping his textbook on the floor due to his deliriousness. 

“Kahl, maybe when you can’t even hold your books is when you should stop studying.” Eric reasoned, his own eyes closing ever so slowly. 

“Yeah dude, you already did a shit ton of work. Give yourself a break.” Stan suggested, leaning back casually on his chair looking at his phone, having stopped doing homework a little over an hour ago. Kyle leaned down to get his book and hit his head off the hospital bed, casuing him to swear under his breath. 

“You’re probably right.” Kyle agreed, rubbing his head. “I already made it into my program anyway; it’s not like studying any more is gonna make me valedictorian or something.” He reasoned bitterly, referring to the latest valedictorian elections they had at school. 

“Fuck that. I can’t believe it’s Wendy. She just won ‘cause she got support of the cheerleader girls.” Stan figured. Kyle raised an eyebrow,

“And you’re not just saying that because she’s your ex?” Kyle questioned. Stan rolled his eyes.

“I mean maybe I’m a little biased, but honestly, you’re just as smart as she is, and your life was a hell of a lot more interesting than hers. That speech could have been awesome.” Stan imagined, thinking of all the crazy shit they could have incorporated into it. This valedictorian ran deeper than high school; essentially, this person represented everything that entire class had gone through since JK, and it was pretty obvious that Wendy would try to keep her speech as tame as possible.

Kyle laughed, “Yeah, they’d fucking love that. ‘Hey guys! Remember when Cartman’s trapper keeper almost destroyed the world? Or that time when Kenny became a zombie and infected everyone? Or even that time when—”

“Ok, ok!” Stan laughed, interrupting his friend, “Maybe we caused a bit of shit to go down in our day, but at least we kept things interesting, right?” He joked, flashing a broad smile Kyle’s way, Kyle returning it. 

“God, no wonder we barely have any friends.” Kyle stated, amused. 

“Yeah, but the ones we do have are pretty fucking great.” Stan replied with a grin. Kyle nodded before turning his head to Cartman’s bed, Cartman having fallen asleep while they were talking. Kyle’s expression turned glum quickly as he watched him breathe shallowly in and out, his body appearing weaker by the day. Stan bit his lower lip, knowing that if he allowed Kyle to stay watching Eric much longer that he’d go into a self-deprecating mode that was hard to break him out of. 

“Hey, do you want to, uh, go get something to eat? We still haven’t had dinner. Even just something from the corner store down the street.” He suggested, trying to get Kyle’s mind off of a situation he could do nothing about. Kyle bit his lip hard and scrunched up his face as though Stan’s comment hurt him in some way. 

“D-dude, I’m sorry, you can stay here if you wa--” 

“Don’t you get it Stan? Don’t you get why I can’t leave him? I did this to him! Me.” Kyle interrupted, cupping his face in his hands. Stan shot him a bewildered look. 

“Kyle, what are you talking about?” He asked, having absolutely no idea how Kyle could have in any way caused him to develop kidney failure. 

Kyle shook his head, “Don’t you remember? Back when we were kids, I needed one of his kidneys. And now? Fucking look at him, Stan! I took his only good kidney!” Kyle blurted out, his screams turning into sobs. 

“Kyle, Kyle, stop!” Stan belted, “You needed his kidney or you would have died. You even offered to give that one back a few months ago, remember? They said that you needed that one or else your condition would become unstable again if you gave it up. None of this is your fault and there’s nothing you could have done differently.” 

Kyle wiped some stray tears from his cheeks and tried to even his breathing, “There is something I could have done; I could have not fucking gotten sick and maybe, just maybe, he’d still have a fighting chance!” He bellowed, his voice losing its power. Stan came up to the red-head and wrapped his arms around him tightly, feeling Kyle’s grip tighten around his back as he burrowed his face into his shoulders. 

“God, I don’t know how else to convince you that this isn’t your fault. Even if he had his two kidneys, this one would still fail and he could still be having these problems. It’s not your fault or his that his body isn’t responding to the treatments; he’s a rare case Kyle, and you know that. Stop fucking blaming yourself for something you have no control over! It’s not your fault, and it’s not Cartman’s; it’s his shitty ass immune system, ok?” Stan explained, tears spilling out of his own eyes. 

It was a depressing scene; it was as though at that moment they both realised that Cartman was going to die and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it. They cried into each other’s shoulders for god knows how long, taking glimpses of Cartman’s sleeping frame on the bed as a reminder of how little control anyone had over their own lives. Neither of them were big criers, but for some reason that night, it struck them fucking hard and there was nothing they could do to stop it or to get their minds off of it. A breakdown was bound to happen at some point, but at the very least, both of them were glad to have each other to help get them through it. 

When they cried themselves dry, the two released their grips from each other and tried to recompose themselves. Kyle wiped away his own tears as Stan reached for a Kleenex from is pocket, blowing his nose and rubbing his eyes. When the two of them were as composed as they could be, they both looked at each other with reddened eyes and broken expressions. Kyle looked curiously at a corner of Stan’s cheek and brought his hand up to it, wiping away a rogue tear he found, just as Stan had done a few weeks earlier. Stan swallowed hard and caught a glimpse of that shared look again, making him break out of his state of sadness and smile genuinely for the first time that night, his smile being infectious and having the same effect on Kyle. 

“Did you say you were hungry?” Kyle asked with a neutral expression, as though he cried out all the sadness he had left in his body. 

“Yeah, if you are. Where do you want to go?” He questioned. Kyle thought for a moment before responding. 

“Far. Fucking far away from the hospital. Let’s just… get in your car and go until the gas runs out.” Kyle stated like a man on a mission. Stan raised his eyebrow. 

“You sure?” He questioned. Kyle nodded his head confidently. 

“Yup. Sulking here won’t do any good. I’m ready to get out of this place. It’s too fucking depressing.” Kyle said with a vivacious tone Stan hadn’t heard from him in a while. “I’m not gonna live with this guilt anymore; there’s no fucking point to it.” 

Stan placed a hand on his hand and smiled up at him. “Good; you don’t deserve to live like that.” He stated, “So if we do that driving thing, are you gonna help pay for gas on the way home?” 

Stan’s tone left Kyle with a look of content, “Of course, dude, but we have to go now or else nothing will be open.” Kyle reasoned, getting up quickly and throwing on his coat, Stan following suit. 

“By the way, I have about half a tank, so it’ll be a long ass ride.” Stan told his friend as they made their way out of the hospital, scaling the stairs at a rapid pace. Kyle flashed Stan one of his Cartman smirks,

“Good; I think we both fucking need it.” 

The two drove for miles until the tank was nearly empty, talking and listening to classic rock the whole way down, not paying attention to where they were. It was like a scene from a movie, a classic road trip between two runaways that tried to escape society, or in Stan and Kyle’s case, escape the confinements of the white walls of the hospital they knew all too well. 

“You know where we are?” Kyle asked Stan as he glared out the window, looking for any signage that would indicate their position. They were in a small town a lot like their own, except this one was miles away and might have been even be smaller than theirs. Stan laughed and shook his head. 

“Not a fucking clue.” He replied honestly in a carefree-fashion. Kyle leaned back in his seat and let out a relaxed sigh. 

“What do you want to do now? I don’t see anywhere to eat.” Kyle told him. 

“The only place I saw was a bar a couple of streets back.” Stan commented, squinting into the night, looking for anything. 

Kyle shrugged his shoulders, “Let’s go there then.” He suggested. Stan slowed down the car and turned to look at his friend. 

“You want to go to a bar? You don’t even drink.” Stan reminded him. Kyle grinned broadly,

“I know, but I’ve always sort of wanted to see what it was like, and what better way to get to know that scene than with an expert like yourself?” He said half-jokingly, Stan rolling his eyes.

“Are you serious though? You’d actually be willing to break the law like that?” Stan declared, enjoying the laissez-faire outlook Kyle was having that night. 

“The worst they can do is kick us out, right?” Kyle asked, Stan nodding in agreeance. “Well then let’s go for it. I’ll do it as long as you drink too.”

Stan chuckled, “I gotta drive, dude; I can’t.” Kyle shook his head. 

“No you don’t; we can just sleep in your car overnight. I’ve heard that people do that.” Kyle suggested. Stan couldn’t wipe the smile off his face for a thousand dollars in that moment.

“I mean I’ve done that before on road trips with the football team, I’m just surprised you’re ok with that.” Stan told him, “But yeah, sure, let’s go for it.” He called out, doing a U-turn at the next light, heading back in the direction of the bar. 

Neither of the boys had felt lighter than they had that night in weeks. With their worries all cried out and left at the hospital, they were finally free to enjoy spending some time together that didn’t involve them gathered around a sick friend’s bed. Stan was glad Kyle could finally let go of his guilt about the kidney and regain his adventurous spirit, even if it was just for the night. The two pulled up at the small bar and scanned the parking lot for a discreet place to park; considering there were only about 5 cars there, they had a lot of options. They parked near the back and hopped out, somewhat nervously approaching the entrance. 

Once they entered, all eyes turned their way. They analysed the scene quickly: there was a small group of guys in the corner who looked their age or younger, three middle aged couples around the bar, and a friendly-looking native-American bartender cleaning off glasses. 

“You guys lost?” One of the middle-aged men asked with a laugh. 

“Not exactly. We were looking for a restaurant in your town, but this place seems to be the only one open.” Stan announced to them. The crowd broke out into a peal of laughter. 

“Yeah, you won’t find anything open at this hour here. Come take a seat, we’ll take good care of ya.” The bartender offered warmly, showing them two empty stools. Kyle and Stan looked at each other and shrugged, walking up to the seats and sitting down. 

“What can I get for ya?” The man asked, his long black braid draped over his shoulder. Kyle looked at Stan with an air of uncertainty, which is when Stan took over. 

“Just two Guiness’.” Stan replied confidently. Kyle placed his mouth near Stan’s ear and whispered,

“Stan, I don’t like beer.” 

Stan gave him a dismissive hand, “I didn’t want you fumbling around looking like an amateur. If they’re going to serve us, we have to at least look like we’ve both done this before.” He reasoned, “And plus, even if you don’t like it, I’ll finish it for you.” 

Kyle let out a closed mouth smile and rolled his eyes, “Fine, I guess that makes sense. What do you think I’d actually like?” He questioned. Stan pondered for a few seconds before coming up with something,

“Honestly, I think it’d take you a while to get used to anything. If you wanna feel anything, you’ll probably have to suck it up and take some shots just to get it over with.” Stan told him quietly. “I’d make sure nothing bad happens to do, don’t worry.” 

Kyle continued smiling up at his friend, “I wouldn’t worry; I trust you.” He said softly just as their beers appeared in front of them. Stan placed the money on the table and looked up at Kyle with a wide smile, waiting to see the look on his face when he took his first sip. Kyle placed the dark liquid up to his mouth, the foam sticking to his upper lip as he titled the cup back. His face contorted as though he just swallowed a bottle of Buckley’s. 

“Goddammit, Stan! This stuff tastes like shit.” He admitted, pushing the glass away from him, Stan laughing all the while. 

“I’m sorry dude, I had to see your face. Don’t worry, I’ll get you something you can bare.” He added, taking the cup and bringing it towards himself. 

About an hour later and a few more drinks in, Stan and Kyle were buzzed and having a good time. Stan was especially careful to give Kyle a lot of chasers and to pace him so that he had a good first experience, hoping that he’d be able to do this with him again one day. The two of them had joined the people in the corner and ended up talking with them about god knows what for who knows how long and watching some game, not that any of them were really paying attention to what sport it was. At the end of the night, Stan and Kyle left, all their new friends saying bye to them and giving them hugs as though they knew them their whole lives. 

Kyle flopped inside the car and laid horizontally across the back seats, exhausted in the best way. 

“God, that was so fun.” He sighed, curling himself into a ball. “Thanks for the idea, Stan.” Kyle added. Stan chuckled from the passenger’s seat, tilting the seat back as far as it could go.

“It was your idea, dude.” He reminded him, running his hands through his messy black hair. “God, I’ve drank with the guys on the team a shit load of times before, but nothing was as fun as tonight.” He told him honestly. 

“Pfft, you’re just saying that.” Kyle reasoned, the buzz wearing off. 

“No, I’m not. You’re so fun to be with, drunk or sober.” Stan went on, his drunken mannerism of showing appreciation leaking in. Kyle smiled and looked up at him. 

“So are you. I’m really glad we did this. I miss just spending time with you.” Kyle admitted. Stan yawned and balled up his toque, sending it flying to the corner of the car.

“Me too, dude.” He sighed, glad that Kyle felt the same way he did. “Goodnight, Kyle.” Stan finished, trying to get as comfortable as possible. 

“Night Stan.” Kyle replied gently, closing his emerald eyes. 

About an hour later, Stan still hadn’t been able to fall asleep. He laid on his back and gazed out the window into the blackness of the nameless town they had stumbled upon, still surprised by the spontaneity of the whole escapade. 

“Hey, Stan?” Kyle called from the back seat. Stan flipped over and looked at his tired eyes. 

“Yeah?” He said tiredly, cracking his neck. 

“Do you want to sleep back here? You can spread out more. There’s enough room.” He explained in a delicate, sleepy voice. Stan shook his head. 

“Nah, it’s ok. I don’t want you sleeping up here; you won’t get any sleep.” He reasoned, flopping back onto his side. 

“No, I meant… you come back here and sleep with me. We’ll both fit,” Kyle gestured, showing the space he had left beside him. “Plus I’m cold anyways.” He laughed. Stan gulped. What was he supposed to do? Of course he wanted to, but what would Cartman think? Was Kyle just saying that because he was still buzzed? There were too many questions going through Stan’s head in order for him to make an informed decision. 

“Would Cartman be mad if he knew?” Stan questioned, a little more awake. Kyle let out a sigh.

“No, I think he’d understand.” Kyle told him, convinced enough. “You have to drive back tomorrow; you need a decent rest.” 

Stan hesitated before answering, but finally came to a conclusion, “Ok, as long as you’re sure.” Stan called back, sitting up and stretching his back. Kyle nodded and then slid over, making room for his friend. Stan clambered over the seat and joined him in the back, laying down horizontally beside him. Kyle had lied; there really wasn’t much room at all; they both barely fit. 

“You sure you’re not too compressed?” Stan questioned hesitantly. 

“I’m sure. You’re not that fat.” Kyle joked lightheartedly, Stan being able to feel his body laughing, seeing as his back was pressed against his. Stan fell asleep shortly after joining Kyle in the back, exhausted from the drive. Kyle laid awake for some hours after, warm and comfortable. Physically, he could have fallen asleep whenever he wanted, but it was his mind that kept him awake. 

Questions raced around Kyle’s head. Why did he make up an excuse to have Stan join him in the back? Why did he keep looking for excuses to see the black-haired boy more and more as Cartman’s condition deteriorated? Why did he enjoy Stan’s proximity so much? His back pressed against his, the ability to feel his every deep breath he took, the comfort he felt from listening to his breathing fill the car. It was almost as though, no, no it couldn’t be. He couldn’t go down that road again. He had Cartman now, so things were different, totally different. Right? Even if he and Cartman couldn’t really talk very much anymore, he still loved him like that, right? 

Oh god, Stan, why the fuck are you doing this to me again?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fixed my shit! Lesson to self: don't try to move too fast. If anyone's still gonna bother reading this, I have to say that this took some thinking but it's hopefully better than before. I changed quite a bit. Took the perspective of a Kyman shipper to see where I went wrong; thanks Nic <3 Anyways, hope it's a slight improvement

Something changed between Stan and Kyle after that night in the car together. It was like they took a step back in time, at least with their level of comfort between them. It was as though Kyle stopped thinking before he acted: if he wanted to text Stan, he’d text him, if he wanted to call him, he’d do so without hesitation, if he wanted to show up unexpectedly for no reason at all, he wouldn’t bother questioning if he should or not. Kyle wasn’t sure himself if that was what he should be doing, in fact, he knew that he was only toying with his emotions by doing all that shit, but he couldn’t stop himself from acting on his impulses. It was what made him happy, a happiness he hadn’t felt in months. 

Stan began to notice immediately. At first, he’d hesitate and ask what he thought Cartman would think, but after Kyle would assure him that everything was fine, he figured he’d stop altogether. Stan knew he shouldn’t have been reciprocating so easily, but he couldn’t help himself. The boys weren’t doing anything bad, but what they were doing was getting close, a level of closeness that was teetering on the edge of danger. It was the type of feeling where if the mood was right, their guard was down, and someone leaned in a little too close, it would take a shit ton of willpower to resist what felt almost inevitable. The only time the tension between them was lifted was when Cartman was awake for a couple hours a day, which is when Kyle would direct 100% of his attention his way, ignoring Stan at all costs, and Stan knew exactly why. 

When Kenny wasn’t spending time at the hospital with Cartman, he was working part-time at a garage to help get money for their future house they’d rent out, and of course to send some to his sister. Stan kept up his football and somewhat his schooling, often having to be reminded by Kyle to finish his homework. Both Stan and Kyle took up volunteer positions at the hospital to help with their community service hours since they were there so much, of course being relieved from their duty for the short bit of time that their friend was awake. Kyle continued to tutor, study, go to his Model UN debates, and even take up an old hobby. Ever since his junior year, Kyle devoted his time to his studies, but this year he felt like he needed to focus on something that could help him relieve stress, which is why he got back into basketball. He played on their high school’s intermural team, seeing as the real team had had their tryouts months before. He kicked everyone’s ass no doubt, everyone knowing that if he was on the real team, he’d be one of the star players again, just like he was in his freshman and softmore years. Kyle loved to show off, and Stan loved to watch him do so, feeling ever so guilty for enjoying watching him hatless and drenched in a sweat that can only come from working extremely hard, maybe enjoying it a little too much. Stan couldn’t help it that he had a thing for athletes, especially red-haired, gorgeous ones that went by the name Kyle Broflovski. 

While everyone was out keeping themselves busy, Cartman did too in his own way. He was always on at least one of three things: dialysis, medication, or his bed, and that felt like a fucking lot to him. With his energy levels draining ever so slowly, he knew his time was coming, and so did everyone else. None of his friends went one day without seeing him for at least a short period of time, and he appreciated that. He was never alone when he woke up, and he was glad as fuck about that. Even if he didn’t tell them how much it meant to him, he hoped that they knew somehow because he believed that their presence was allowing him to live longer, and that was a hard fact to him.

The only times he was truly sad was when he was asleep, or rather pretending to sleep. Once he shut his eyes and Stan and Kyle assumed he was passed out, that was when their conversations commenced. Sometimes Cartman would lay awake and listen to their talks, and as innocent as they were, he felt it. He didn’t even have to have his eyes open to know that they were falling in love with each other in plain sight. The spark was lit, and there was nothing Cartman could do to put it out. Sometimes he’d accidently let some tears escape his eyes after listening to them for sometimes hours at a time, hoping the guys wouldn’t notice that he was only pretending to be asleep. They never did.   
\------------

It was an unusually warm spring evening. Stan had just finished dropping Kyle off at home after coming back from the hospital, both of them flopping down on their beds and tossing their homework aside, tired of being so damn studious. Ever since going to the hospital so much, Stan had been inspired by Kyle to do his homework much more thoroughly while he was there, seeing as there was nothing better to do aside from talking to Cartman while he was awake and volunteering. Stan rubbed his head and flung his hat off, a headache beginning to set in. 

The two began texting for quite some time until Kyle suggested that they just meet up and talk since it was so nice outside. Stan couldn’t help but take advantage of an opportunity like that. He agreed without much hesitation. 

The two walked around the pond and talked about everything under the sun, well, moon in this case. The wind blew subtly around them, tossing Stan’s messy black hair about, seeing as he forgot to put his tuque back on. Kyle had his hands dangled limply by his side, sometimes accidently brushing up against Stan’s, which would cause Kyle to pull them away like Stan’s hands were covered in corrosive material. Stan didn’t quite know what to make of that, but he didn’t bother getting too offended by it nonetheless. 

“You know what happened because of you?” Stan questioned in a light tone, the two of them making their second lap around the pond. 

“What?” Kyle smiled back, catching the optimistic tone. 

“I went from a C+ to a B in chemistry. You’re a horrible influence.” Stan joked. Kyle laughed in return, elbowing him lightly in the ribs. 

“I better watch out or you’re gonna start getting better marks than me.” The red-head told him sarcastically. 

“Yeah, that’ll happen the same day you can bench more than me.” Stan quipped, flashing a bright smile. Kyle raised an eyebrow at the challenge. 

“Oh, you mean right after you beat me in a game of one-on-one?” Kyle retorted, honing in on his basketball skills. Stan let out an amused laugh. 

“Shit, that’s a lot of competitions on one day.” He concluded, taking a seat on a bench overlooking the pond, the sun setting over the water, Kyle taking a seat beside. Stan observed the pond for a few seconds longer; it looked like a painting with the sunset colours reflecting off the water. 

“Dude, this looks like a postcard.” Stan announced, pulling out his phone and snapping a quick picture, observing his work afterwards. Kyle gazed down and looked casually at some of the other pictures he had saved. He could tell Stan wasn’t much of a photographer because most of the pictures he had were old ones of Wendy from when they were together. 

“Have you talked to her since you guys broke up?” Kyle questioned. Stan shook his head. 

“No, barely at all. I used to text her for homework help, but I go to you for that now. Even when I did, she was annoying as hell about it, always asking me why I didn’t get something or moving too fast in her explanations.” Stan went over, annoyed by just the thought of it. “I’m glad you don’t do that.” He finished, Kyle sending him a closed mouth smile.

“Well, there’s not really a point of being a dick about something when someone’s asking for help.” He added. “Can I ask you something though? If she was such a bitch to you, why’d you stay with her for so long?” 

Stan let out a laugh to himself and scratched the back of his neck. “Honestly, I couldn’t tell you.” He confessed. He thought for a little while after that, trying to put himself in his shoes a few months back and trying to recall his reasoning. “Actually, there was a reason.” He let out finally. 

“Oh?” Kyle wondered. 

“Well, with Wendy I was…I don’t know, safe. I knew her so well and she knew me, and she still accepted me even though she knew almost everything about me. I figured no one else would really ever accept everything about me like she did, you know? So I stayed with her. I guess for security reasons.” Stan admitted to Kyle and himself, “I know I’m not an ideal boyfriend, actually, I’m really far from it, so I figured if I let her go, I might let go my only chance at having some meaningful relationship.” He concluded, still admiring the sky pensively. 

Kyle let out a scoff, “You’re serious? Stan, you can’t actually think you’re that shitty of a person that no one else besides Wendy would ever want to be with you. You know for yourself, you could get almost every fucking girl at our school.” Kyle expressed to him. 

“Dude, sure, those girls wouldn’t mind me for a night or two, like I found out during, you know, that phase, but more than that? No way. They wouldn’t stick around once they got to know me for real. They’d think I’m… I don’t know, boring, cynical, depressing….all the shit I know I am.” Stan continued in a self-deprecating way. Kyle shook his head, having a hard time taking his friend seriously. 

“Don’t forget stubborn.” Kyle half-joked. “Come on Stan, anyone’d be lucky as hell to have you as their boyfriend. Even if you can be cynical or depressing at times, so what? So can everyone. If they can’t see past that, then they aren’t worth it anyway. You deserve someone who can accept you for everything, and trust me, there are a lot more people out there that would than you think.” Kyle elaborated, looking his raven haired friend’s way. 

Stan let out a weak grin, “You actually think so?” 

Kyle laughed to himself, “I’d bet on it.” 

\----------

“Cartman, wish me luck.” Stan said softly to the exhausted brunette as he approached his bed to say bye to him before he left for his big game. His football shoes echoed on the freshly waxed floor and left little scuff marks, something the staff was tired to having to clean up. Cartman raised his hand up and gave him a high five with a smile etched across his face. 

“Kill em, hippie.” Eric whispered roughly, his voice sounding as sick as he was. Stan flashed him a smirk and waited for Kyle to put on his coat; even though it was spring, it got cold at the stadium in the evenings. 

“Cartman, are you sure you don’t mind that I’m leaving?” Kyle asked delicately, sitting next to him on the bed, causing it to creak. Kyle wondered if he weighed more than Cartman now. 

Eric shook his head with a laugh, “Don’t worry about it, Jew. You guys spend enough time with me. I don’t wanna hold you back any more than I have to.” 

Kyle shook his head feverishly, “Cartman, you know you’re not holding us back from anything. We want to be here with you.” Kyle affirmed.

“Yeah dude, you’re our best friend. Don’t ever think you’re a burden or some shit.” Stan added, catching a glimpse of the smudged black paint under his eyes in the hospital windows. 

“Pfft, you guys are being to fucking nice. Just go to your game and kick ass, ok?” Eric finalised. Stan nodded. 

“I’ll do what I can. See you tomorrow.” Stan quipped as he flung his gym bag over his broad shoulders and walked out the door, his shoes clicking all the while. Kyle leaned down and gave Eric a peck on the forehead before leaving, telling him goodnight and that he loved him. Cartman faked a smile and said the same things back, knowing that Kyle didn’t mean one of them in the same way he did. 

Kyle fastened his seat belt after getting into the car and let out a sigh. “He knows, Stan.” 

Stan raised an eyebrow at his bundled up friend. “Who knows what?” 

Kyle bent his head down and tapped his fingers against the armrest. “Eric knows I don’t love him like before.” He let out with a heavy heart. “Of course I’ll always love him, shit, I love him more than almost anyone in the world, but I don’t love him how I did half a year ago. I can’t. Too much has changed. We barely talk, and not because we don’t want to, but because we can’t.” He said bitterly, bringing his hands to his face in frustration. “God, this whole thing’s a fucking mess.” 

“Yeah, it is.” Stan agreed, sincerely hoping that his loss of romantic interest in Cartman wasn’t any of his doing, even though deep down he knew he played a small role in it.

The game went off without a hitch. It wasn’t the best game Stan ever played, but it was enough to get him noticed by the scout. Kyle watched from the stands as the scout pulled Stan aside after the game, Stan beaming with excitement. Evening had turned into night and almost everyone had gone; in fact, after the scout left, only he and Stan remained. 

Stan climbed the stairs to where Kyle was sitting high in the stands, out of breath by the time he got there. 

“Goddammit, you had to pick the highest spot.” He complained lightly, a smile still etched on his face. He took a seat beside him and wiped off the black under-eye paint, most of it already gone. 

“I assume good news?” Kyle suggested, judging by the look on his face. Stan nodded. 

“Yeah, really good news actually. Exactly what I wanted.” He told him, referring to the full ride he hoped for. Kyle beamed a white smile that outshone the spotlights in the stadium. 

“Dude, that’s awesome! You put in a lot of work, you deserve it.” He praised, placing a hand on his shoulder. Stan laughed lightly.

“Thanks. I’m just really glad something’s going right.” He confessed, referring of course to the deteriorating situation of their friend. Kyle sighed and thought for a few moments before coming to a conclusion. 

“It sucks because besides the obvious shit show that’s going down with Cartman, everything else is working out great.” Kyle pointed out, “Some things are going so great, and others are just…”

“Shit?” Stan suggested, his cynicism never failing to make an appearance in times of trouble. 

“Yeah, that’s the best way to put it.” Kyle agreed. “There isn’t much of a bright side, but if we had to find one, I’d say that it was that at least we knew about his condition in advance so that we could spend as much time with him as possible.” 

Stan nodded, “That’s true. To be honest, before he was sick, we weren’t really that close, but now…God, I never thought I’d worry about someone as much as I worry about him.” He confessed, gripping his hands around the cold metal seat. 

“I worry about him a lot too, and maybe that’s part of the problem. That’s all I can think of when I think of him anymore. I think about how much I wish he could get better, but I know that he won’t. I love him so much but just… in a different way now. It’d be dangerous to love him…like that, and I realised that a while ago.” Kyle admitted, opening up his heart to share with his friend. 

“Stan, I haven’t kissed him on the lips all this month. I can’t. I distanced myself from him because I fucking had to. I couldn’t keep loving him the same way or else… god knows how much that’d fuck with my life.” He told him in a weakening voice. “I’m so fucking selfish.” He let out in a huff, clenching his fists. 

“No you’re not, Kyle.” Stan assured him with confidence. “I’d do the same thing, I know it. If I had a terminal disease like his and I had a boyfriend or something, I wouldn’t expect them to keep loving me romantically. That’s not fair to them. Of course I’d want them to be there for me, but they can’t love someone they know’s gonna die.” He reasoned. Kyle shook his head. 

“I don’t know if it’d be the same if I was with you.” Kyle replied almost under his breath, as though his unconscious took over. 

“What?” Stan questioned, unsure if he actually heard what he did. 

“I, uh…I mean it’d be different since we’re like super best friends and everything.” Kyle stammered, trying to fix his slip of the tongue. Kyle swallowed and sat motionless, deeply thinking about something. He leaned back on the bleachers and rested his back against the seat, taking his hat off and toying with it in his hands. 

“Dude, you seem pretty uneasy.” Stan told him, noticing his increasingly strange and nervous behaviour. 

“Well I am Stan.” He replied a little harsher than Stan expected. 

“Wow, dude sorry.” Stan said a little taken aback. 

Kyle shook his head, “No, it’s not you. I’m just… I’m unsure about everything.” He confessed, gripping his red curls. Kyle looked up at the dark starry sky and let out a sigh. “There’s something I’ve been putting off that I have to do, but I just haven’t had the courage to go through with it yet.” 

Stan didn’t bother prodding. If Kyle wanted to tell him, he would. Stan sat patiently and waited for Kyle’s nerves to calm down before doing anything. After what seemed like a long time, Kyle put his hat back on and stood up. 

“I need to do something. Can you drive me to the hospital?” Kyle questioned uncertainly. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

 

Kyle didn’t speak on the way to the hospital. The car felt empty without his voice, despite the radio being turned up pretty loud. Stan drove slower, thinking about what Kyle could have going through his mind, although he had an assumption. Either way, he figured he’d find out soon enough. Once they pulled up to the hospital, they made their way up the staircase rapidly, Kyle pausing before going into Cartman’s room. The red head balled his hands into fists and closed his eyes tight for a moment as if he was trying to stop himself from crying. 

“Is it ok if you wait out here? I’m not sure how long I’ll be, but I’ll need a ride back when I get out.” He questioned, his hands beginning to shake from nervousness. 

“Of course, dude. I’ll be right here.” Stan said, trying to comfort him. With a nod, Kyle headed into the room and closed the door, Stan taking his seat in the waiting area with an uneasy feeling in his gut. 

Kyle flipped on the light switch and walked slowly over to Cartman’s bedside, taking a seat in a chair right next to him. He placed his hand on his arm and shook him slightly.

“Cartman?” Kyle whispered into the dark. Cartman’s brown eyes fluttered open, looking confused. 

“Kyle?” He asked, not sure why he would wake him up at this hour seeing as he always let him sleep. He already figured something was up. 

“I, uh…I’m sorry to wake you but, I just…” He began, not sure how to finish his sentence. Kyle took a deep breath and directed his eyes away from Cartman’s, looking instead at his own hands. “Cartman, I need to talk to you about something.” 

Cartman nodded and allowed him to continue, already anticipating the worst. “Yeah?” He said with a raspy voice. 

Kyle couldn’t get words to come out. Everything he thought of saying on the car ride to the hospital was lost somewhere between his brain and his mouth. He bit his lower lip and tried to think clearly, pushing away what he could of his nerves. 

“I…uh, oh god…” He began, flustered. “Fuck, I didn’t think this would be so hard.” He admitted, cupping his face in his hands. 

“You want to break up with me, don’t you?” He suggested. Kyle brought his hands away from his face and looked directly into Cartman’s. 

“Wait, what?” Kyle stuttered, flustered by the sound of those words coming from Eric’s mouth. 

“You think I’m blind, Jew?” He began. “Just ‘cause I’m sick doesn’t mean I’m stupid. Who’d wanna be with someone they can barely talk to?” He continued. 

“Cartman, I…” 

“Well, isn’t it true? Do you still feel the same way you did when we used to be together in normal fucking circumstances and talk all the time?” He went on with a little more emphasis. 

“Well, uh…” 

“No, you fucking don’t feel the same and I know it. You know it.” He huffed, “You don’t like me anymore like that, and you don’t have to be afraid to fucking say it. Just say it Kyle, it’ll make you feel a whole lot fucking better.” He carried on in a dramatic fashion with his old attitude that had been absent for weeks. 

“The fuck Cartman? You act like you don’t mean anything to me anymore, and that’s just not true.” Kyle let out. 

“Well I’m pretty sure someone else took my place since I’ve been sick.” Cartman scoffed, narrowing his eyes at Kyle. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kyle interjected in a harsh tone. 

“What do you think it’s fucking supposed to mean?! You don’t think I see the way Stan fucking looks at you when you guys are together? The way you look at him? You may as well have been fucking on my hospital bed!” He bellowed, his voice echoing off the white clad walls. “I might be losing my kidney but not my common sense.” He finished. 

“God fucking dammit Cartman, I still love him! I mean you, I still love you.” Kyle stumbled, balling his fists in frustration at his mistake. 

“Nice Freudian slip, Kahl. Even if that was an honest mistake, I know that that’s what you really meant; don’t fucking deny it. You loved Stan before we were together and you always have, maybe always will.” He concluded, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Cartman, you think I’d come visit you and spend time with you every day if I didn’t love you too?” Kyle pleaded, starting to genuinely feeling horrible. 

“No. But I know that it’s not the same love as what you have for Stan.” He let out in a sigh. Cartman took a sip of water and gave himself a minute to catch his breath and simmer down. “God, I’m sorry for blowing up on you, but it just fucking hurts, ok? It hurts knowing that I was losing you right in front of me and there was nothing I could do about it.” He explained, pausing to catch his breath,

“Listen, I’m not mad at you; I can’t be. I don’t want my last week or month to be spent being mad at you, or Stan for that matter. I don’t wanna hold you back or whatever.” Eric let out in a more defeated tone. Kyle brought his hand up and brushed it against his cheek and looked gently into his eyes. It wasn’t a sensual glance, but it was a glance to show him that he still cared. Kyle saw a tiny smile spread across the brunette’s pale face. 

“You never held me back from anything. Stan and I’ll still come and see you, if you’ll let us. I still need you as a friend.” Kyle admitted, his voice low. 

“Of course I still want you fuckers here.” He laughed hoarsely, holding the blanket up to his chin, presumably from being cold. Kyle let out a relieved smile. He knew that everything wasn’t going to be the same, but he was glad he finally had the courage to do it anyway. He grabbed hold of Cartman’s hand and stayed with him until he fell asleep, which only took a few minutes. Kyle turned out the lights and headed back into the waiting room, Stan sitting patiently. 

 

After Stan dropped Kyle off that night, he couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t stand the thought of not having said anything to Cartman after hearing what he had to say about him, especially because Cartman must have assumed that Stan was in the next room over. After about an hour of attempting to clear his mind, he knew there was no cure except for one thing. He left his house, snatching the car keys silently off the table and sneaking out, knowing if he was quiet enough no one would even notice that it was 3AM. 

Stan parked and entered the hospital, the ladies at the front desk confused and asking him what he was doing there so late and without his friend with the green hat. He told them it was an emergency. It’s what it seemed like to him at least. He hustled his way to Cartman’s floor and approached his door, realising that it was the first time he’d come to visit him without Kyle. He gulped before crossing the threshold, flipping on one of the lights so he didn’t go completely blind.

“Cartman?” Stan whispered as he stepped his way cautiously into the room. Cartman turned over and raised a strange eyebrow his way, his eyes not fully open yet. 

“Marsh?” He asked in a confused tone, looking around for his usual partner. “What’re you doing here?” 

Stan walked up slowly to the bed and took his familiar seat by him with an unfamiliar feeling in his stomach. He thought he’d throw up right there, but after supressing his urge to puke, he gathered his thoughts and let out a slow breath. 

“I, uh…I want, er, I have to talk to you about something.” He began nervously. “I sort of heard what you said about me earlier. I was in the waiting room right outside.” Stan confessed. 

Cartman didn’t seem phased by the news, “Yeah, I figured you were there.” He told him tiredly, “I don’t know what you can say. It’s pretty fucking clear. Kyle always had a thing for you. End of story. I was just his backup when you were occupied.” He let out, adverting his eyes from Stan’s. 

Stan shook his head vigorously. “No dude, you’re wrong. That’s not true. You weren’t just his backup; he loved you a hell of a lot.” Stan assured. Cartman turned back Stan’s way, his brown eyes meeting the quarterback’s. 

“Yeah fucking right, Stan. If you came here just to fucking lie to me to make me feel better, you may as well leave. I don’t need your goddam sympathy.” Cartman huffed. 

“I’m not lying to you. Cartman, I was jealous whenever Kyle was with you. Really fucking jealous.” Stan began. 

“Why would you have to be jealous?” Cartman questioned in disbelief. 

“Because I saw the way he looked at you. He gave you those… those fucking eyes I wanted him to be giving me all that time. Just…everything. The way he talked to you, about you. He wouldn’t shut up about you and it drove me crazy.” Stan said with a lighter tone. Cartman let out a smile, glad he could make Stan feel a bit of the pain he was going through. 

“Trust me, Cartman. You weren’t just my replacement. He could have gotten with me after I broke up with Wendy, but I had to back off because I saw that he didn’t like me like that anymore. He started liking you.” Stan explained fully, Cartman’s eyes shining brighter than he’d seen them shine in weeks. 

“Yeah, I guess so. But you know what sucks? Cause I haven’t been able to talk to him for like…god, four months or so? I mean like actually talk to him like we used to, he went to you as if by some fucking instinct. You have to realise that that fucking stings, Marsh.” Cartman confessed, his smile faded. 

Stan nodded, “I’m sorry. I should have kept my distance.” He went on, Cartman rolling his eyes. 

“Yeah you should have.” He replied harshly. “But it’s not totally your fault. If I was in your case and Kyle was falling for me and shit, I’d probably do the same as you did.” He admitted with a bitter laugh. 

“I guess I have to take some of the blame since it was partially my fault.” Stan declared. 

“Partially?” Cartman asked him with a raised eyebrow. 

Stan raised one back, “Yeah, partially.” He defended his statement. Cartman rolled his eyes at him and laughed harshly. 

“God, do you know how many times I saw you guys together and wished I could beat the shit out of you?” He said lightly, even though Stan knew he didn’t mean it jokingly at all. “I wanted to fucking wipe that smirk off your face so hard.” 

“The way you were going with your training, you probably could have done some real fucking damage.” Stan assured, Cartman nodding in agreement. 

“Pfft, yeah I bet.” He said back cockily. Stan looked at him for a few moments before coming up with an idea. 

“Here, punch me.” He called to the brunette, rolling up his sleeve. 

“What?” Cartman question uncertainly. 

“Punch me, Cartman. Beat the shit out of my arm.” Stan reiterated. 

“Stan, you breathe in too much hospital air or some shit? I’m not gonna punch you.” Cartman defended. 

“Yeah you are. I deserve it. Just fucking do it.” 

“Stan, stop. I’m not gonna fucking punch you.” 

“Yes you are. Just do it, fatass.”

“The fuck, hippie? I’m not gonna punch your goddam arm!” 

“Yes you fucking are.”

“Jesus fucking Christ Stan, stop!”

“Fucking hit me.” 

“No!” 

“Don’t be a little bitch about it. I can handle your weak-ass punch.” 

“Fuck you!” Cartman bellowed, swinging his fist full force into Stan’s tricep. Stan winced in pain as he brought his arm away from Cartman and back so he could have a look at it. 

“Goddam you punch hard for someone who’s been bedridden for four months.” Stan told him through gritted teeth, trying to supress the pain. 

“You want me to call a nurse in to look at that?” Cartman teased with a grin. “Thanks for that, by the way. That felt fucking great. Can I do it again?” He laughed, only half joking.

“No, I think one’s good enough.” Stan replied, still observing his arm, knowing there’d be a bruise the next day. 

“Aw, the quarterback too much of a pussy to handle an invalid’s right hook?” 

“Shut the fuck up.” He laughed back, shoving his friend away. Cartman let out a yawn and let his head fall back on the pillow. 

“I’m getting really tired, though. Thanks for coming in. Stan. I don’t know if we really solved anything, but I probably bruised you, so that’s pretty cool.” Cartman teased, hitting his arm lightly back in the same spot. 

“Yeah, there’ll be a mark for sure.” He observed, looking at his flexed arm. “I honestly think you could be a fair match against me in a fight now that I felt that.” Stan said brightly, stroking Cartman’s ego. 

“Pfft, I’d wipe the floor with you.” He went on confidently, craning his head to the side and looking at the clock on his bedside table. “You better get home before I fall asleep, though. I can’t wait til Kyle asks about what happened to you.” 

“I could just tell him it was from football.” Stan shrugged. Cartman raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Ay! I deserve fucking credit for that.” He declared, “Well either way, I’ll tell him when he comes in tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, I guess I can let you have that.” Stan announced, getting up from his seat and swinging his coat over his shoulders. “Night, dude.” 

“Night hippie. And hey, Stan?” Cartman called to him from the entranceway. 

“Yeah?” Stan wondered as he spun around and turned off the lights. 

“Be good to my Jew, ok?” 

Stan nodded firmly, “Don’t worry. I’ll treat him just like you would have.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way I updated chapter 5, so if you haven't reread that version, I suggest you do or else it definitely won't flow the same.

Things around South Park were changing and everyone could feel it. A notorious generation was about to head off to college, leaving a gaping hole in their population. Sure, everyone would come home to visit for the holidays, but there was a sense that nothing would ever be the same, and for many reasons. 

“Are you guys going to prom?” Kyle asked as he sat up straight on a chair near the head of Cartman’s bed. It was rare that all five of them would be together, but that day it just so happened to work out that way. 

Kenny shook his head sadly, “No, unfortunately. Butters sorta wanted to go, but it’s expensive as fuck to get everything. We’re not just talking suits and shit, but the people we would have gone with wanted a limo, cover for an after-party…just a bunch of unnecessary shit that Bebe wanted. I don’t know who put her in charge, but it was a dumb ass mistake.” 

“Aw, that sucks dude.” Stan added, his hip leaning against the wall. Kenny looked over his way and raised an eyebrow.

“Aren’t you going? I thought you always wanted to go to prom.” Stan smiled and shook his head.

“That was more Wendy talking. She always talked up the idea, probably because Bebe always mentioned it.” He recalled “Plus, I wouldn’t have anyone to go with anyways.” 

“Pfft, you know you could bring almost anyone. Plus, the girls already know you well enough, if you know what I mean.” Kenny said with a wink, referring to the brief period of time he slept around. Stan rolled his dark blue eyes at the suggestion. 

“Yeah, maybe a little too well. Either way, it’s too late now. I bet they already all have dates and shit. I’m totally fine with not going.” Stan confirmed in a confident sounding voice. 

“But just because we’re not going to prom doesn’t mean we don’t have to not doing anything, though.” Kenny suggested, shifting his position on Butters’ lap, Butters becoming increasingly more uncomfortable as time went on. 

“Why, what were you thinking?” Kyle asked suspiciously, knowing that some of Kenny’s ideas were pretty out there. 

“Nothing crazy. We could stay with Cartman for most of the night, maybe even get dressed up just for shits, and then head over to the house in Denver and have a kind of housing warming party.” Kenny offered with an air of optimism. 

“Kenny, we don’t even have any furniture in that house.” Kyle reminded the blond. Kenny shrugged his shoulders. 

“So? We can bring sleeping bags and shit and watch movies on someone’s laptop. And you know, have a few drinks.” Kenny teased, sending Stan a glance and a smirk. Kyle looked at Stan too, but with a more concerned expression. 

“That sounds like it could be fun!” Butters piped up, his voice muffled by his boyfriend he had sitting on him. 

“Yeah, I’m in.” Stan concurred. Kyle was the last to agree, but after a quick deliberation, he came to a conclusion. 

“Yeah, that’s fine I guess.” He added with a half-smile. Kenny lightly slapped Cartman’s leg in an attempt to wake him up.

“And hey buddy, if you’re up for it, you’re welcome to join us.” Kenny told as him, the brunette still remaining asleep. Everyone got quiet after that. Their lives were full of constant revelations that Eric was in a declining state and there was nothing they could do to stop it. All they could do was be by his side, hoping to at least make his last days more bearable. 

“You know, I heard dying of renal failure is one of the calmest ways to die.” Kenny told the group of them after a heavy pause, getting choked up. Butters squeezed Kenny’s hand, trying not to get emotional himself. 

“And if he has to die, I want it to be as painless as possible. Dying fucking sucks.” The blond continued, squeezing Eric’s thin leg hard. A few moments later, Eric’s eyes fluttered open. 

“Kinny, what are you doing?” He yawned. Kenny reached over and hugged his best friend, not saying a word. Eric wrapped his arms gently around him and held him close, Kenny not letting go for minutes. It was pretty rare for Kenny to get emotional, but he was the type that when he cared for someone, he cared deeply. They all left the hospital late that night, keeping Eric awake with idle conversation, knowing that nights like that would no longer be part of their norm in the near future. 

 

\--------------------------

“I’m glad we avoided that shit storm.” Kenny joked as they loaded into Stan’s car and began their trek to the house in Denver, everyone dressed in suits. The group of them took a lot of pictures together in the hospital, even though a few of them weren’t the fondest of being in photos. Kyle clutched a flower boutonnerie that Cartman gave him once everyone had left. He went through the trouble of ordering it and having it delivered to the hospital, something many people in South Park would have never imagined Eric Cartman having the heart to do, not that they really knew him though. Sure, it was a lame-ass prom tradition, but Cartman figured Kyle was sentimental enough to keep something like that, even though the flowers would eventually dry up. Cartman was right; he would keep this thing as long as he could. 

“I don’t know who’d be dumb enough to light off the fucking fireworks inside the house.” Kyle announced in disbelief, pulling himself away from his deep thoughts. He was referring to the disaster of a prom party that had all the fire trucks in South Park surrounding it. 

“Drunk people would, that’s who.” Stan answered, starting up the engine. 

“Yeah, welcome to South Park where we’re the fucking smartest people in it.” Kenny laughed, lighting a cigarette in his mouth. The blond took a long drag and blew it out the open window, Kyle turning his head from the passenger’s seat and watching with distaste. 

“Come on Kenny, really?” The red-head questioned in his parental voice. 

“It’s prom night, Kyle, live a little.” Kenny reasoned, brushing aside his warning. 

“You let him do this, Butters?” Kyle asked in his higher pitched voice. Butters shrugged. 

“Aw, don’t worry about it Kyle. Ken barely does it.” Butters affirmed, reaching out a calming hand to place on Kyle’s shoulder. 

“I mean it’s better than cheesing.” Stan interjected jovially, Kenny reaching around and punching his arm lightly. 

“When was the last time I did that shit? I mean besides that one relapse…” Kenny questioned lightly, the mood in the car picking up. 

A little while later after everyone had their sufficient amount of complaining about Stan’s “hippie” music, or so Cartman called it, they arrived at the house. It was nothing impressive: white, one floor with a basement, a tall tree in the front and the back, and lots of small bedrooms that were going to be meant for all of them. The boys unloaded their overnight supplies and entered, the smell of stale weed filling the living room. Kyle and Stan looked at each other, both of them using their secret communicative looks to signal a message, the looks that began when they were little kids. This look said “I wonder who was responsible for that smell”, with both of their eyes directing towards Kenny. Stan shrugged it off, Kyle realising he’d be forced to accept it if he was gonna live with him. 

The rest of the night was chill as ever. The four set up the sleeping bags in a circle around the laptop atop the barren carpeted floor in the living room. Even though Stan and Kenny managed to sneak alcohol out of their houses, neither of them drank more than a couple beers. Kyle and Butters stayed 100% sober, aside from Stan insisting that Kyle take a sip of his Guinness just so he could see that face again. 

“Stan, I don’t want it! It tastes like shit.” Kyle laughed, shoving the can away.

“Ok, ok fine. I just like the face you make.” Stan told him lightheartedly with reddened cheeks and a broad smile, Kyle smiling in return. 

“God fine.” Kyle let out, grabbing the drink and bringing it to his lips, cringing upon the first minimal swallow. “Are you happy now?” Kyle joked. Stan nodded. 

“Yup, that’s all I wanted.” He played off, leaning back on his sleeping bag, his head spinning slightly. 

“Jesus, I only had two beers and I already have a headache.” He admitted, rubbing his scalp. 

“I guess that means you haven’t been drinking much lately.” Kyle deduced, a light smirk crossing his light pink lips. 

“You’re right, I haven’t. I don’t have any need to.” The raven haired boy announced honestly. 

“I’m glad.” Kyle whispered back, suddenly noticing the quietness in the den. The only ones in the room were the two of them; Butters and Kenny left a while ago, Kenny giving Butters a “tour” of the house, a house that they had already been to multiple times. Kyle looked over at the laptop screen and saw the credits rolling. 

“Do you mind if we go to sleep now?” Kyle asked quietly. Stan shook his head. 

“No, dude that’s fine. I’m pretty tired too.” The quarterback yawned, crawling into the tiny sleeping bag. With that assurance, Kyle closed the computer, the whole room going pitch black, crawling into his own bag shortly after. 

“I know that this wasn’t your ideal prom night.” Kyle said in almost a sigh, “But I hope it wasn’t too bad.” He continued, feeling guilty that he deprived Stan of something in some way. 

“No way, dude. Sure it wasn’t what I planned, but when do things ever go as planned with us?” Stan joked, referring of course to the years of shenanigans the group of them had gone through together, “I don’t think we were ever meant for anything normal to happen.” 

Kyle laughed to himself, “Yeah, I guess normal isn’t our style.”

Stan turned over one more time so that he was facing the red-head who had recently taken his hat off. “Night Kyle.” 

Stan could see the flash of his bright white teeth in the dark room as he smiled back to him, “Goodnight, Stan.” 

 

Some time passed but neither of them had fallen asleep. After about an hour of trying to get comfortable, Stan finally broke the tired silence. 

“It’s like whenever we’re together I can’t sleep.” Stan joked, cracking his neck as he tried to fluff up his flat pillow. Kyle chuckled in response. 

“I think it’s more like lately whenever we’re together we always have uncomfortable sleeping arrangements. We were fine when we slept over at each other’s houses.” Kyle reminded him. 

“Yeah, that’s true.” Stan concurred, realising how long it’d been since one of those sleepovers. “Why can’t you sleep?” Stan inquired. Kyle flipped over so he was facing him, his pale face somewhat visible in the dark. 

“It’s too cold.” He noted, his eyelids looking heavy.

“Oh really? I’m pretty warm actually.” Stan declared with a grin, Kyle rolling his eyes at his response.

“Then what’s wrong with you?” Kyle questioned, tugging the sleeping bag up to his neck. 

“This thing is too short. It doesn’t cover enough.” Stan explained, showing Kyle how it only went up to the middle of his chest. 

“Mine’s long enough.” Kyle stated, showing Stan the extra length that went beyond his head. “I think my dad bought this thinking I’d end up taller.” He joked, his red hair sprawled in a big, fluffy mess on his pillow.

“What are you, like 5’4?” Stan asked playfully, feeling the smack of a pillow on his chest a few seconds after. 

“Come on dude, I’m not that much shorter than you.” Kyle responded. 

“I know, I know. I was just teasing.” He replied, seeing the bright, reflective smile of his red head friend in the dark again. “I’d give you some of my body heat if you’d give me some more material for this piece of shit.” Stan told him kiddingly, gesturing to the bag. 

“Well, I know a way we could both get what we wanted.” Kyle added on. 

“And what’s that?” Stan questioned hypothetically. 

“You could come sleep here.” Kyle suggested, his voice becoming quieter. Stan gulped and waited a few seconds for the words to sink in.

“Uh… really?” The raven haired boy inquired uncertainly. 

“Yeah, why not? That is, of course, if you wouldn’t mind not having much space to move around.” Kyle tacked on to the end. Stan raised his dark eyebrows in the dark and gave it some thought for a moment or two. 

“Dude, are you sure? I’m not the smallest guy.” Stan reminded him, Kyle chuckling under his breath. 

“Stan, if I could do this with Cartman, I can do it with you. Trust me.” He assured. With that Stan shrugged and climbed out of his bag, the zipping sound filling the silent room. Kyle unzipped his bag and gestured for Stan to climb in, Stan closing it after he got comfortable. 

“Damn, this is a big-ass sleeping bag.” Stan observed, noticing how both of them could somehow fit and there still be some room to move. 

“I told you. I think it’s meant for my dad’s height and my mom’s width.” Kyle declared with a grin, Stan smiling in response. Immediately, Stan began to feel nostalgic of their time in the car when they were squeezed in tight like that, his mind beginning to fill with warm memories. He allowed himself to relax next to Kyle, feeling Kyle’s warm breath against the back of his neck and his chest moving up and down against his back. God he loved this feeling. 

“You feel warmer?” Stan whispered in voice more sultry than he intended. He couldn’t help it; whenever he was this close to someone that voice always found a way to make an appearance, not that Kyle minded. The red head allowed the soft voice to fill his mind, realising that that was the first time he heard Stan talk like that. 

“Yeah, a lot.” Kyle cooed back, playing off Stan’s bedroom voice. 

“Good.” Stan told him in response, his eyelids becoming harder to keep open, but not wanting to shut them because then he’d go to sleep for sure, and he didn’t want to miss a second of this. He heard Kyle let out a sigh as the red-head yawned and stretched his arms above his head, drooping one of them around Stan’s waist as he brought them down from the stretch. Stan felt the light touch of his friend’s hand on his bare skin where his shirt had been lifted up, causing him to forget to breath for a second. In a daring move, he brought his hand up to grab Kyle’s, pulling his whole arm down across his chest, hugging Kyle’s arm against his body. Kyle complied without hesitation, turning his body completely sideways so that the two were sandwiched together so that not even a piece of paper could fit in between them. 

After a while of stillness, their accelerated heart-pounding filling the room, the two fell asleep, but not before Kyle did one last thing. Kyle whispered Stan’s name in his ear to check if he was still awake, but the black-haired boy made no response. As Kyle pulled away, his lips graced the back of his neck in a smooth, soft kiss. A smile spread across Stan’s tired face, the memory etching its way into his brain, something he knew he wouldn’t forget for a long, long time. 

 

Since that night had passed, a lot had changed. Kyle would make excuses to come and stay overnight with Stan on weekends on at least a weekly basis. He would tell his parents that they were driving up to set up the house, which wasn’t false, but definitely wasn’t the goal of the trip. 

Stan would always comply to Kyle’s wishes, knowing that Kyle did want to get everything set up before things got too hectic, and also knowing that that would mean they’d get to spend the night together. Kyle made a habit of calling him around 9 at night, meaning that by the time they got there and unloaded furniture and whatnot, they’d have no choice but to stay over; it was a win win for both of them. 

At the beginning Stan was overjoyed. He could hardly believe that Kyle would go to such elaborate schemes, along with lying to his mother, something he was still shit at, just so that they could have some alone time. The feelings that were between them weren’t sexual; they were more along the lines of comfort if anything. There was only one single bed at the new house, and neither of them insisted to bring another one up. After unloading furniture, kitchen necessities, or something along those lines, Stan would crawl into bed and Kyle would follow a few minutes later. Stan never initiated anything, knowing that Kyle’s breakup with Cartman was still fairly recent and he figured he was in no state to begin…anything really. Kyle would lie close to him, his lean, muscular body pressed against Stan’s sore back, which Kyle would sometimes massage for him without him asking. Kyle wasn’t afraid to spoon the raven haired boy, wrapping not only his arms, but sometimes even a leg around his body, the warmth they created becoming something Stan was now accustomed to. 

Whatever was going on between them went unaddressed. Stan didn’t want to ask what Kyle’s intentions were, nor did Kyle really know himself. Before the breakup with Cartman, he had no problems when it came to thinking about Stan in a good light, but since then, that had changed. As time went on, Kyle was able less and less to think of Stan without thinking about Cartman and the guilt he felt for leaving him. In Lacanian psychoanalytic terms, he began unconsciously projecting his anxieties and desires from his relationship with Cartman onto Stan, using Stan as the “Other” or sight of projection. As familiar as Kyle was with these theories, he never recognised that what he was doing was a textbook case of projection, and he probably never would completely. Kyle wanted someone he could feel comfortable with to be close to. He missed that feeling, and that much he was aware of, but it became less and less about being with Stan that was comforting to him—it was more about the closeness itself. They were very different people, personality-wise and physically, yet Kyle’s mind somehow blurred the line between their individual personalities; it was although even though Kyle would see Stan in the flesh, he would imagine him as Cartman, the person he abandoned. Kyle sometimes even caught himself reaching over Stan’s body to grab a soft stomach that just wasn’t there, stroking his abs as a replacement, a replacement that sometimes didn’t satisfy him fully. 

Stan began to worry one night when he heard Kyle mumbling Cartman’s name in his sleep while he was running his hands through Stan’s inky black hair. Sure he was dreaming, but that made it worse if anything. Stan always felt he needed Kyle more than Kyle needed him. In fact, if you were to ask anyone, people would say that Stan always seemed to need someone in his life. That wasn’t to say Stan would settle, but Stan did run into the danger of dragging out his relationships longer than he should, being overly attached to people even when he knew he should have let them go a while ago. 

Stan began to worry that his unconditional attachment was something Kyle was taking advantage of, but at the same time, he reasoned that Kyle didn’t just spend copious amounts of time with anyone for no reason; only if he cared for someone deeply would he bother doing that. Kyle didn’t take bullshit, and he’d never bullshit himself; if he wanted to spend quality time with Stan, Stan figured there had to be a good reason for it. Or so he hoped…

It was two AM. The boys had just finished unpacking new kitchen supplies; plates, forks, knives, a blender, and a bunch of other shit, even setting up the microwave. Stan climbed into the single bed, leaving space for the guy he knew would come by in a couple minutes. Stan watched Kyle strip off his white t-shirt, revealing his bare, somewhat hairy chest underneath. It was rare that Kyle slept without a shirt in Stan’s presence, but he figured due to the broken air conditioner and the hot June air filling the stuffy room, it was pretty necessary. 

A smile stretched across Stan’s face as the red-head approached, the smell of mint toothpaste wafting out when he spoke. 

“What?” Kyle asked lightly, laying down beside his friend. Stan shook his head.

“Nothing. It’s just funny how much, uh, more of a man you’ve become in just a year. You’re gonna turn out just like your dad.” He teased, poking at the trail of red hair that went down the middle of his body. 

Kyle rolled his eyes, “Oh yeah, like you’re one to talk.” Kyle retorted, pointing to Stan’s black hair that was spread over his torso. “I can almost see the mustache coming in.” Kyle joked. Stan narrowed his eyes.

“God, please don’t do that. You know I hate being compared to my dad.” Stan let out, slightly annoyed. 

“Well, I don’t really need to be reminded that I’m going to become part bear in a few years either.” Kyle retorted. “But hey, don’t worry about it. Besides your hairiness, you’re not much like your dad.” 

Stan returned the smile, rolling over to turn out the lights. Once the lamp was turned off, Kyle gravitated towards the quarterback, his body pressed against his, his right leg draped over the right side of Stan. It was hot as fuck, but neither cared. Stan felt Kyle’s soft chest hair against his back, enjoying the feeling of both of their skins touching. Stan had trouble falling asleep that night, seeing as Kyle kept moving around in his sleep, specifically in the pelvic area. The combination of bare skin and hip bucking was driving Stan crazy; he had to separate himself from the red-head’s close hold if he had any chance of his boner going away. 

About an hour later, Stan heard Kyle begin to talk in his sleep. He flipped around so that he was facing him, listening to the incoherent words that were flowing out in mumbles. 

“Why not? Huh?.....Where?.....Eric? Yeah, uh huh. Why?” Kyle sputtered out, Stan’s heart sinking. Since Kyle hadn’t been one to reveal his real thoughts to him during his waking hours, Stan wondered how his half-awake subconscious would fare at revealing information. Stan knew it was kind of dirty, but he felt he had to know what was really going on. 

“Kyle?” Stan whispered to his friend. Kyle’s eyes flinched, but didn’t fully open. 

“Huh, what?” He replied. 

“Kyle, you were talking in your sleep again.” Stan told him, Kyle’s eyes still closed. Kyle moved around a bit, cracking his neck and moving his hands up to rub his eyes. 

“What’d I say?” He asked in a sleepy voice. Stan let out a sigh before answering. 

“Well, you said something about Cartman.” He told him. Kyle made a mumbling noise, Stan not sure if what he said were actual words. “Did you say something?” Stan questioned. 

“Yeah. I said what’d I say about him?” The red head wondered. 

“Not much, just a bunch of questions. Kyle, can I ask you something?” Stan inquired, Kyle mumbling again.

“Sure.” 

“Well, ok. I, uh…well I kinda wanted to tell you that I heard what you said about me to Cartman at the hospital. That you…uh, loved me? Is that true?” Stan questioned, feeling beads of sweat pouring down his forehead. Stan was banking on the fact that Kyle wasn’t fully awake, and by his moans and zombie-like movements, he figured he was still in the clear. 

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Kyle replied tiredly, relaxing his body. 

“But uh…sometimes I get the feeling that you still think about Cartman like that even though you guys aren’t…together anymore. Is that true?” Stan interrogated, his thirst for the truth growing stronger. Kyle’s eyes remained shut while he answered.

“Yeah, I love him too.” Kyle replied flatly. Stan gulped. 

“Did breaking up with him make you feel guilty?” Stan tried, really prodding him now. Kyle nodded.

“Yeah, guilty.” He responded, flipping over to the other side away from Stan. Stan felt as though a cold hand wrapped itself around his heart. He had one more question. 

“Kyle, am I just your replacement for Cartman now?” Stan inquired, biting his lip hard. Stan harboured this theory for a while. He figured his brain shut Stan out, filling in Cartman as the only one that mattered. Stan didn’t usually think too deeply about theories like that, but after too many sleep-talking incidences and close nights spent sleeping with Kyle, he had to know the answer. 

“You’re not Cartman… Not soft enough… Cartman had brown eyes… Tall enough, though… Feels close enough…” Kyle mumbled on. Stan balled his hands into fists and clenched the bed sheets. 

“Fuck.” He muttered under his breath. He knew it was too good to be true. God, if he only acted when he had the chance… If he only fucking took his chance, this shit wouldn’t be so goddam complicated. Stan was so optimistic for once in his life just a month or so ago, but now that was only a nostalgic memory. What ever could have been, wasn't and didn't happen. 

The raven haired boy eventually fell asleep, as far away from Kyle as he could get on a single bed. 

It was a warm Saturday morning, June 4th to be exact. Stan asked Kyle if he remembered talking in his sleep. 

“Oh shit, I did?” Kyle questioned humorously, hopping into the car as they began their journey home. 

“Yeah dude, you were mumbling shit all night.” Stan played off coolly. 

“What did I even say?” Kyle wondered, directing his gaze towards Stan. Stan shook his head and pretended to laugh. 

“Dude, I couldn’t make out a word you said.” 

 

When the two pulled up in Kyle’s driveway, Kyle looked down at his phone. It was a call from Kenny. 

“Hello, Kenny?” Kyle asked. 

“Kyle, you and Stan gotta come to the fucking hospital right now!” Kenny said in a panicky voice into the phone. “It’s Cartman, dude. It looks like he’s…fuck! It looks like he’s not gonna make it.” 

Kyle dropped the phone. Stan’s eyes went wide. He turned the ignition back on and wiped out of the driveway, his mind numb. He gripped the wheel tight in his hands, trying to be strong, knowing that his strength wasn’t going to last much longer. If this was really it, none of them were ready. Sure, they knew this day was coming for a while, but it was as though they all thought it would never really happen. But this was reality, a reality they would never be prepared to deal with no matter how much time they had to prepare for it. Cartman almost seemed invincible to them, but here they were, on their way to the hospital to meet with reality, a bitch who gave him a terminal diagnosis. A bitch who took away his invincibility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey you get a crash course in Jacques Lacan's psychoanalytic theory of Self and Other if nothing else! Sorry, kinda felt it was something that could be added, especially considering the title has to do with psychology too.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one might sting a little

When the boys arrived at the hospital, Kenny, Butters and Liane were already there, along with the doctor and a flock of nurses in the room. 

“If you boys would like to step out into the hallway, I can explain what’s going on here.” The middle aged doctor that diagnosed Cartman too late told them as they settled next to Eric. Kyle balled his fists. 

“I can read a heart monitor, thanks.” The red-head hissed with the highest degree of bitterness he could muster. The lines on the monitor were slowing; none of them needed an explanation as to what that meant. Kyle gripped Cartman’s hand tight, his usually pale complexion looking much drearier than any of them had ever seen it in their lives: he was practically already a corpse. 

Kyle looked into his brown, fading eyes without knowing what to say. What could he say? Are you feeling better didn’t seem like a question that would make much sense. What the fuck are you supposed to say to someone who is dying in front of your eyes? He gripped his hand tighter in frustration at himself for suddenly losing his vocabulary. 

“Kahl, don’t squeeze so hard.” Cartman coughed weakly. Kyle let go immediately. 

“God, I’m sorry Cartman.” His voice shook. Cartman stretched out his arm and took back his hand. 

“No need to be sorry, Jew. You can still hold it.” Eric let out breathlessly, his eyes struggling to stay open. Cartman scanned the room; the worried medical staff, his gloomy-looking friends silently staring at him as he laid on his bed. The whole scene seemed stupid to him. 

“Why are you guys so fucking quiet? Say something. Just ‘cause I’m dying doesn’t mean you guys have to already pretend like it’s my funeral.” Eric told them, all of them cracking a bitter smile: even on his death bed, Cartman was still Cartman. 

“Dude, I’m sorry. It’s just hard to accept this. It’s you. We’re gonna miss the shit out of you.” Stan admitted, everyone nodding in agreement. 

“Pfft, you guys better not let your lives go to shit just because I’m gonna be dead, I swear to god. I accepted it, you guys gotta do that too.” Eric explained. The brunette gripped Kyle’s hand tight and looked into his eyes, “Especially not you.” He whispered so only Kyle could hear. The red-head gulped and nodded. 

The heart monitor made another beep which alerted the nurses, the group of them beginning to chatter amongst themselves and move closer to Eric’s bed. Liane threw herself on her son, hugging him as though her hug could save him from passing on, makeup streaming down her face. 

“Mom, you’re suffocating me.” Eric said with a light smile on his face, a tear escaping his eye. Eric suddenly began to think about how much he loved his mom. Fuck, this was gonna kill her, he thought. 

Liane backed away a bit, loosening her grip on her now stick thin son. “I’m sorry sweetie. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.” 

Eric laughed as though he was holding back tears. “Mom, you never hurt me.” He admitted, “You’re a fucking great mom. Remember that, kay?” 

Liane smiled amidst the tears and nodded. “You’re the best son I could have ever asked for, Eric.” She let out in a voice barely comprehensible. 

Eric’s face lit up for a moment as he laughed, “Hahaha! Oh my god mom, you know that’s so fucking false.” Eric stated, looking around his bed, “You guys better not fucking glorify me at my funeral either. I don’t wanna be remembered just for the good shit; I have a reputation to uphold, y’know?” He joked, everyone’s stoic faces breaking into small smiles. 

“Don’t worry; we’ll remind everyone how fucking horrible you were.” Kenny played along. 

“Good.” Eric agreed almost breathlessly, the lines on the monitor running slower and slower. Liane took hold of her son’s arm and squeezed, her tears falling on his pale skin.  
“Eric, I love you so much.” She said in almost a whisper.

“We love you too, Cartman.” Kenny spoke for all of them, all of their eyes observing the neon lights running slower and slower against the black background. The sides of Cartman’s mouth curled up before he took his last breath. They all watched helplessly as he flatlined, his chest moving no more. The doctor came over to check his pulse one last time, but really, what was the point of that? 

All the boys sat around the hospital bed in a daze, Liane’s subtle crying turning into sobs as she held onto the cold hand of her son who was alive only moments ago. All the boys drew near to her in an effort to comfort her, but none of them really knew what to do. None of them said a word, in fact, no one barely moved. Time passed before they were asked to leave the room itself and sit in the waiting room while technical issues regarding the body were resolved. The doctor had to fill in some paper work. They needed to know where to take the body. Even the police showed up for some reason. Everything all happened so fast, so fucking fast. 

 

The funeral was held a few days later. It took place outside. Practically the whole town showed up. Cartman affected everyone’s life in some way or another, and it wasn’t always negatively either; the high volume of people that came was proof of that. Whether they’d admit it or not, they’d all miss his presence in some way or another. He was just the type of guy that added a certain spark to the town that no one would be able to reignite in the same way. 

After Father Maxi gave his typical funeral spiel, sharing some of his own memories of Cartman despite the fact that Eric hadn’t been to church in years besides the occasional Christmas and Easter, it was Liane’s turn. The poor woman could barely make it through the first few sentences, but Butters took over for her, reading the rest of what she wrote on her tear-stained paper and adding on his own words at the end. Butters seemed to have forgiven Eric for the years of manipulation he had him go through, but that was to be expected: it was Butters after all. Butters made sure that everyone knew that despite their not-so perfect relationship, Eric had matured over the years and that he would miss him greatly. Kenny, Stan and Kyle agreed with every word. 

“Um…hello everyone.” Stan began as he looked out from the podium, standing where Butters just was. “I, uh…I don’t really know where to begin. I have notes written down here, but honestly they can’t even begin to do justice to everything Cartman stood for for me, for everyone here.” The raven haired boy commenced, tightening his red tie around his neck. 

“I think we can all agree that Cartman was someone…unique. He was someone who caused controversy and had a way of stirring people up, someone who was a good manipulator, but not always for the right reasons. Cartman brought this town to its knees, and as much as some of you will only remember him for those times, I won’t. Me, Kyle and Kenny did everything with him since our childhood, and god was that an eventful childhood. We stowed away on a plane to Afghanistan. We became cops when we were way too young for that to even be legal. We formed a band. We went all the way across Canada. Hell, we even went to the moon.” Stan listed as he read only some of the what seemed like hundreds of examples he had listed on his paper. 

“But out of all those things that we did together, what I’ll miss him the most for didn’t come from a crazy adventure. Growing up, Cartman and I were never as close as Cartman and Kenny or Cartman and Kyle were, but that changed recently. This past year Cartman and I spent more quality time together then I think we ever did before, and all it started with was me spotting him at the gym. If you think that you can’t really get much talking done while you’re busy sweating and working out, you’re right. No, we didn’t talk a shit ton, but we established something else during those hours at the gym: a bond. Yeah sure, Cartman and I had each other’s backs when it came down to it, but this was new. This was something we developed not as a result of us all being in a group or out of habit; this was just between us. We finally shared something that no one else really knew about, mostly because he asked me to keep it a secret. Sorry, dude.” Stan smiled weakly, looking at the closed coffin to the side of him. 

“Either way, those hours became even longer, of course, when we learned about his diagnosis and began visiting him on a daily basis for hours at a time. You’d think after months of coming to see someone you might get a little tired of it, and yeah, sometimes it was tiring after a long day at school or a football game to make our way out to the hospital and see him, but once we all got there, it was totally worth it. I think Cartman’s one of the only people that can make a visit where he was asleep for half the time entertaining. He always had something to say, even if it was just said to intentionally make Kyle mad.” Stan added, casting a friendly glance towards Kyle in the front row, Kyle smiling weakly back. 

“There’s not really a good way to conclude this other than say that Cartman was and always will be irreplaceable to us, and to me, and I’m glad I got to know him better before all of this happened. I’m gonna miss you, dude.” Stan finished, grabbing his papers and walking swiftly back to his seat, his head down and eyes closed, trying to ignore the nauseous feeling in his stomach. 

“Thanks, Stan.” Kenny said as he began, adjusting his own stack of papers on the small, wooden table in front of him. The blond looked nervous, and he had a right to be. Kenny wasn’t much of a talker, and everyone knew that. The only times when he really did anything on stage were occasional singing performances, but speaking was another story. He didn’t have the cords on his parka to pull in front of his face in case he got nervous, in fact, he had no hood at all. His pale skin felt the warm glow of the early June sun. Somehow the rays seemed to calm him down. He took a deep breath and began. 

“I don’t normally write stuff down, but I figured this was gonna have to be one of the times I needed to because I don’t want to forget anything, even though I know there’s no way I could ever list every single thing Cartman means to me on a piece of paper.” He let out in one breath. 

“Cartman was my best friend since as long as I can remember. Like Stan said, we had our group and we did everything together. We got into a shitload of trouble, but somehow we all made it out alive, barely. There were some pretty close calls sometimes, some of them closer than others, and only Cartman could really understand that. Cartman and I shared a really… unique bond that I had with none of my other friends. You could even say Cartman shared a part of my soul.” Kenny said as he laughed to himself. 

“Cartman got me on a level that no one will be able to understand, and now that he’s gone, it’s like a part of me is gone with him. Sure, he made fun of me for being poor when he was little, but that never really bothered me too much because I knew that that was the only thing he could say against me. Plus, he grew up since then and started ripping on me for other stuff.” Kenny smiled to himself. 

“On a more serious note, though, I’m about to say something that won’t make sense to any of you, but it would have made some sense to him, so I’ll say it anyways. Dying fucking sucks, and I wish no one had to go through it, especially someone young. Cartman suffered a lot, and the only thing we could do was try to be there for him, and I think we did a pretty decent job at that.” He paused and took a slow breath. “Cartman, I’d die a thousand more times if it meant it would bring you back, dude.” Kenny declared to the coffin, his eyes drooping as he clutched the sides of the podium in an attempt to hold in his emotions. 

“Some of you here might be wondering if he’s going to go to heaven or hell. All I can say to that is that it really doesn’t matter; heaven’s nice, but hell’s not so bad either. And honestly, if Cartman’s going to go to hell, I think a lot of us are too.” Kenny announced, casting a glance to Stan and Kyle who sat somewhat confused in their seats, just as many of the other people in the audience must have been. “Cartman, wherever you are, I hope you’re having a good time because you don’t deserve to suffer anymore. I’m gonna miss you so much.” He concluded, folding up his papers and shoving them into his pockets, Kyle approaching the stand next. 

The red-head positioned himself squarely in front of the wooden stand and sighed. Kyle had yet to break down, and he was hoping to god that it wasn’t going to happen in front of all these people. He took a deep breath and commenced. 

“Cartman and I always had what some would call a love-hate relationship, with most of our childhoods consisting of the hate part. Cartman always managed to get my attention, and he did it in some pretty messed up ways sometimes. But I’m not gonna stand here and list everything Cartman’s done wrong because that would just be too hypocritical of me. We’ve all done stuff we’re not proud of, but that doesn’t make us anything less; it just makes us human.” Kyle expressed, his voice steady for now. 

“Cartman had a strange way of showing affection when he was younger, but I always knew that underneath he really cared; he just didn’t want to show it. Eric made us promise not to “glorify” him at his funeral, but I can’t really write a speech about everything Cartman meant to me without thinking of the good things first.” Kyle spoke honestly. 

“Cartman and I fought a lot, and sometimes I look back and wish we didn’t, but other times, I realise how much I learned about myself through him because of those fights. I wouldn’t be the person I am today without having Cartman to push me, sometimes a little too far, but nonetheless push me to prove something to myself. And somehow through all the fighting and bickering, we established a bond that doesn’t really make sense to other people, but that made sense to us. I fell in love with a guy who was the complete opposite of me, yet at the same time was and always will be such an important part of who I am.” He tried to explain. Kyle hadn’t told his parents yet about the relationship he had with Cartman, but he didn’t care about whether or not they would have approved anymore, in fact, he didn’t care that the whole town knew now. He wasn’t ashamed of it; he loved him too much for that. 

“And even though we didn’t stay together until the end, we never truly left each other either, and never will.” Kyle declared, looking at the coffin, a sole tear streaming down his porcelain cheek. He paused as he recomposed himself. “Cartman…well, Cartman made me feel every emotion. He could bring out my worst, but also my best in a way that no one else could ever do. Whether he meant to do it or not, he gave me confidence and taught me to love myself, and I hope I helped him with those things too. I just… I just fucking love him so much. Words can’t describe how much I’m gonna miss him.” He breathed heavily. “Thank you.” Kyle let out abruptly as he raced back to his seat, trying to calm himself. 

Don’t fucking cry, don’t fucking cry...He told himself over and over. He eventually made his mind go blank so he could stop the depressing thoughts from taking over. He could already tell this day would etch in his memory forever. 

The coffin was lowered down as heads followed the descending box, a few people dropping in flowers as it went lower and lower. Everyone was soon ushered back to their cars, the black flags on the antennas being collected on their way out of the funeral grounds. Dark clouds began to roll overhead, the sound of thunder accompanying them. Pathetic fallacy at its finest. 

 

Time passed, and with it, not much got better, especially for Kyle. No one really spoke of the death, but it was on everyone’s minds constantly. Kenny and Butters had each other. Liane had the adults like Sharon and Sheila with whom she frequently visited now just to give herself company. You’d think Stan and Kyle had each other, but that wasn’t the case. Not at all. 

“Hey Kyle, after the grad ceremony tonight, you wanna help me set up the fridge at the Denver house?” Stan questioned into the telephone was he laid on his bed, already knowing the answer. 

“Uh…I don’t think so, Stan. I’m not really feeling too good.” Kyle lied as he sat at his computer desk and stared at a blank screen, an empty feeling in his stomach. 

“Dude, we don’t have to stay overnight or anything. I can drive you back right after. I just thought since you’re good with mechanical type of stuff you’d be able to help me out.” Stan almost pleaded, missing the company of his friend so much. Kyle bit his lower lip, regretting what he said in a way, but also knowing that he didn’t want to leave the house, especially not to just be alone with Stan. What if he projected on him again? Stan wasn’t Cartman, and he couldn’t keep himself from pretending that he was every time he saw him. He couldn’t do that to Stan anymore, which was something he realised only after Cartman’s death. He didn’t trust himself around the guy, not like this, not yet… 

“Stan, I can’t, I’m sorry. Can’t you get Kenny to help you out? He’s good at that stuff too.” Kyle let out, disliking the sound of his own words. 

Stan sighed, “Yeah, I guess he’s okay with it. You’re better though.” He paused, meaning two things by that statement. “Kyle, I’m gonna be honest with you, I already figured you’d say no when I called. You said no when I asked you about the WiFi, air conditioner, and some lighting issues too.” Stan admitted, his heart sinking as he remembered a series of calls he made over the past few weeks, thinking that he probably even forgot to mention a couple. 

“Then why’d you bother calling?” Kyle questioned stoically. 

“Huh?” Stan questioned, taken aback by his bluntness. 

“I just asked why’d you bother to call, you know, if you already knew I’d say no?” Kyle repeated, sitting tensely on his spinning chair, his voice coming out much smoother than he had it in his mind. He knew his words were hurtful, but that’s why he said them. Maybe if he was rude to Stan, he’d stop trying to connect with him, and when he stopped trying to connect with him, there wouldn’t be more chances for Kyle to toy with his emotions anymore. Using him was the last thing he wanted to do, but if pushing him away was the only way to ensure it didn’t happen, that’s the way it had to be. 

“Kyle, what the fuck? You know why I called- I called because I know you’re good at this shit, and for god’s sake it’s your house too!” Stan almost screamed into the phone, his anger building. 

“Is that the only reason you called, Stan? Am I really that good at setting up that shit? Or did you just call because you were lonely?” Kyle spewed, the venom hurting his own throat as it came out. 

“W-what?” Stan said with bewilderment into the phone. “I don’t know what the fuck’s wrong with you, Kyle, but to answer your question, yeah, sure, I am lonely. But you know why I’m lonely? Because I haven’t seen you for more than twenty minutes since the funeral, and that was more than two weeks ago. You’ve been a fucking hermit outside of school. You’re avoiding me in the hallways, on the phone, through text…Just fucking any time I try to talk to you, you’re MIA! I thought you were supposed to be my best friend, but you’re treating me like I’m nobody.” He huffed. 

“It’s like you died too when Cartman did. At least that’s what it feels like.” Stan concluded, knowing he was pushing it with that last part. 

“Don’t you dare compare this to Cartman’s death!” Kyle belted, genuinely hurt by the comparison. Fuck, was that was he was doing to him? Is that how it really felt? God Stan, I’m so fucking sorry, I’m so sorry…But what else am I supposed to do? I can’t fucking look at the guy without feeling guilty…I’m not fucking ready to deal with this shit…Not yet. I can’t fucking put you through that anymore…What I did before was wrong, and I see that now. I can’t give you false hope…I can’t give me false hope. 

“That’s honestly what it seems like. I don’t know what the fuck happened to you…to us, but something changed and I hate it.” Stan said in defeat, his face red from a mixture of anger and sadness. 

“If you hate it so much, maybe you should stop trying to get back something that was never there before.” Kyle let out, knowing that was probably one of the meanest things he’d ever said to Stan. There was a long, heavy pause on the other line. 

“If that’s how you want it then fine, I’ll stop fucking trying. Bye.” Stan told him as he hung up the phone, flopping back on his bed and running his hands through his inky black hair. 

Kyle held the phone in his trembling hands. Did he really just do that? Yup, he really did. There was no going back now. Hopefully now, Stan would stop making an effort, meaning that Kyle could stop worrying about hurting him. He had one last thing to do though… 

 

“What are you doing?” Stan questioned as he saw Kyle carrying out boxes from his own room down the stairs. That was the first time Kyle had set foot in that house the whole month of June. Everyone was bringing things in, and he was taking them away. 

“I’m taking my stuff. I’m going to live on residence closer to the university with the other pre-med students. It’ll be more convenient that way.” Kyle lied, choking back his own disgust. Everyone’s eyes went wide. 

“Don’t worry, I already talked to the landlord. Everything’s taken care of.” Kyle finished, holding the door open with his foot as he exited. The three boys dashed to the front of the house and followed him as he loaded things wordlessly into the trunk of his parent’s car. 

“Kyle, you’re serious?” Kenny questioned, a look of urgency in his violet eyes. 

“Yup.” He said convincingly. It wasn’t what he wanted, not by a long shot, but it was what he had to do. Stan rolled his eyes and headed inside. 

“Come on Butters, you can’t convince him of anything.” Stan told the blond, taking him by the arm and dragging him inside, knowing Butters would try to fix the situation. 

“But Stan, I---” He began.

“Trust me. If this is what he wants, let him go for it. Who are we to stop him?” Stan said loudly enough so the red-head could hear, hoping his words would sting. They did. Stan could be sure of that. 

As the car pulled away, Kenny got a text from Kyle. 

Kyle: I’ll explain everything to you later, but you have to promise not to say anything to Stan. 

Kenny let out a sigh and responded, watching the car speed out of sight. 

Kenny: Fine, but it better be a good explanation Kyle. And why can’t I tell Stan? 

Kenny waited a few minutes, the phone feeling heavy in his hands as he sat on the front porch, the sun hitting his light hair. Kenny figured Kyle had to wait until he got to a red light to text again. 

Kyle: You just can’t. You’ll see when I tell you. 

Kenny: I guess if that’s what you want…

Kyle: It’s not what I want, but it’s the way it has to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to comment and let me know what you think ~ I always respond to comments and I'm open to constructive criticism


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think; comments and constructive criticisms are always welcome

“Nice of you to show up.” Kenny stated as he swung open the front door. Kyle looked around at the house and raised an eyebrow, slightly disappointed by the state it was in. It wasn’t dirty, but it was messy. Coats and sweaters were draped over the couches and empty beer cans topped the table surfaces. 

“Do you guys like…take turns doing chores?” Kyle wondered as he placed his backpack down and headed for the sofa. Kenny rolled his eyes,

“You show up here for the first time after four months and that’s the first thing you say?” The blond retorted, taking his seat next to Kyle. Kyle lowered his head.

“Sorry, dude.” He apologised, taking his hat off and beginning to nervously play with it in his hands. “So you’re sure Stan’s gone for the weekend?” Kyle asked apprehensively. Kenny let out a sigh,

“Yeah, dude. He’s got a football game in Seattle.” Kenny informed him, Kyle letting out his breath. Neither of them said anything immediately after that. Kenny sat in silence, waiting for Kyle to speak first. After some awkward time passed, the red head spoke again. 

“So, uh…how have you been?” He questioned. Kenny shrugged his shoulders. 

“Pretty decent, I guess. I got a job as a power line technician.” Kenny stated. Kyle raised his eyebrow yet again. 

“Don’t you need training for that, like in college or something?” Kyle wondered, tilting his head. Kenny chuckled. 

“Yeah, I think you do. But the guys that hired me seemed desperate; I don’t think they cared.” He replied, leaning his back against the faded brown leather. 

“That seems pretty shady.” Kyle told him honestly. 

“Probably is, but they taught me all the safety shit on the job. I only got electrocuted a couple times so far.” Kenny laughed to himself. “They said I’m a resilient little fucker.”

Kyle’s eyes went wide, “Kenny, how the fuck did you survive that?! God, don’t fucking risk your life just for a job; it’s not worth it.” 

“If you saw all the money I made, you might think differently.” Kenny responded nonchalantly. Kyle was always confused as to why Kenny never seemed to care about doing such high risk things; things that could potentially cost him his life. Kyle planned on arguing the topic further, but realised there would be no point. 

“Just…be careful, ok?” Kyle let out in his concerned voice. Kenny smiled back. 

“Don’t worry.” He replied, putting an assuring hand on the red head’s shoulder. “Enough about me though, what have you been doing since…July?” Kenny questioned with a slightly agitated tone. 

Kyle laughed uncomfortably, “Damn, you’re right. I can’t believe it’s October already.” He began, searching his mind for something to say. “It’s been… fine, I guess. The program’s harder than I thought, and the students are stuck-up as hell. The profs are real big asswipes too. It’s like they always have a fucking stick up their asses.” He admitted. Kenny raised a thin, blond eyebrow at his lifelong friend. 

“Dude, that sounds pretty miserable to be honest.” The blond stated, looking directly at Kyle. 

“It is.” Kyle confessed, placing his hands on his bony knees. Kenny quickly looked Kyle up and down and took in some observations. 

“Did you like, lose weight or something? Your face looks all hollowed out.” Kenny wondered. Kyle laughed bitterly. 

“Yeah, I think so. I don’t have a scale or anything, but my clothes fit a lot looser.” He told Kenny. “I haven’t really been eating that much ‘cause, you know, with studying and everything there isn’t much time to make shit.” 

Kenny furrowed his brows together, “Is that the only reason?” 

Kyle looked up at the blond, caught off guard by the question. It sparked something in him he hadn’t properly dealt with. He gulped, not knowing the right words to say. 

“I…uh…”

Kenny put a hand on his shoulder, “Dude, you don’t have to be afraid to tell me shit. I can tell this has been a shitty few months for you. You’re not the only one having trouble dealing with everything.” He reminded him. “Stan’s been taking all this shit pretty harsh too.” 

Kyle’s eyes went up at the mention of Stan’s name. “He has?” 

Kenny scoffed, “Yeah, dude, of course. This whole thing is so fucked up, and I think he’s having an even harder time dealing with it because he doesn’t have his best friend to talk to.” Kenny said honestly, hoping to pull at Kyle’s heart strings. Kyle’s head drooped back down. 

“Yeah, I know the feeling.” He said in almost a whisper. Kenny gave Kyle a slightly aggressive shove.

“Then what the fuck are you waiting for? Talk to the guy for Christ’s sake.” Kenny instructed. 

“Dude, it’s not that fucking easy. All that shit I said to him…the fact that I fucking walked away. I can’t just take those things back.” Kyle blurted out. 

“You guys have been through shit in the past. The guy held a fucking gun to your head multiple times and you forgave that. Come on Kyle, it’s you and Stan. I’m sure he’d accept an apology.” Kenny tried to convince. Kyle shook his head. 

“That’s not the same. Things weren’t this complicated when we were kids.” Kyle explained, balling his fists in frustration. 

“What do you mean?” Kenny questioned. 

Kyle looked at him with wild green eyes, “What the fuck do you think I mean? Isn’t it obvious? I didn’t have fucking feelings for him then like I do now.” Kyle blurted out. Kenny took in a deep breath, absorbing the information. 

“Ah, I see.” He pieced together, all his assumptions hardening into fact. “So what’s stopping you?” 

“Huh?” Kyle questioned, not prepared for that genre of question. 

“I know you heard me; I’m not wearing my hoodie.” Kenny joked mildly, “You should at least try to talk to him again. You know, he had feelings for you for a while too.” Kenny admitted. Kyle laughed bitterly. 

“I sort of assumed that.” Kyle confessed, recalling all the nights Kyle spent with him and held him close, Stan never shying away. “God, and he was so fucking patient with me too.” Kyle admitted to himself aloud. 

“But I can’t hurt him again. Kenny, I was so fucked in the mind for months and I took it out on Stan. I felt guilty as shit for breaking up with Cartman that I started…I don’t fucking know, wishing Stan was him.”

Kenny nodded, “You were lonely and you missed doing couple-y shit with Cartman. I get it.” The blond reassured, “But now if you were to see Stan, would you still picture him as Cartman, or see him as Stan again?” 

Kyle took a few moments to answer before replying to the question. “I don’t know. I don’t fucking know.” He said in a dreary voice, shaking his head. “That’s why I left. That’s why I haven’t been able to come back yet.”

Kenny nodded in response. “Well, when you do know, you should try talking to your super best friend again. He may act like he’s angry on the outside, but I can tell he misses you like hell.” 

Kyle swallowed hard, guilt gripping his heart. “Right when I know for sure I won’t hurt him anymore, I’ll call him. I fucking swear it.” Kyle promised to himself, checking his watch and heading towards the door, still nervous about Stan showing up, despite the fact that Kenny assured him he'd be gone. 

“I’ll hold you to that.” Kenny let out. Suddenly, the oven beeped and Kenny went to the kitchen to take something out for dinner. Kyle looked down and noticed something on the floor. It was a dark blue t-shirt he remembered quite well. He picked it up and held it to his nose, breathing in a smell he missed so much these past few months. He shoved it quickly in his backpack and tossed it over his shoulders, waiting for the blond to see him out. Kenny held the door open and gave him a weak smile. 

“See you soon, Kyle.” 

“Yeah, hopefully it’ll be soon.” Kyle agreed, flashing a frail smile.

“It better be. I miss having you around here.”

“Yeah, I miss it too.” Kyle concluded, starting up the engine and driving away. He turned the music on and tried to drown out all the thoughts swirling around his head. He opened the window and felt the wind gush through his fro, allowing his hair to breath as he sped down the nearly empty highway. As he was toying with his own hair, he suddenly realised something. 

“Ah fuck…” He told himself aloud, the thought just occurring to him that he was driving hatless. He looked in his bag and on the car seat, but he knew there was no point of looking in those places; he knew exactly where he left it. He spun the car around and began his trek back. Yet his plans to get his headwear back were halted when he pulled into the street and noticed a familiar black SUV in the driveway. One he hadn’t seen in four months. Stan was unloading his trunk, dropping a few things to the ground as he attempted to carry everything in one trip. He looked uneasy as hell, Kyle thought. Without much thought, he spun the car around and headed home, hoping Kenny did something about that characteristic hat. There would be no mistaking whose that was. 

 

“Huh.” Kenny said as he picked up the green ushanka. “I should probably put this away so that Stan doesn’t know Kyle’s been here.” Kenny told his boyfriend, Butters cleaning up the last of the dishes in the kitchen. Butters took a seat across the table from Kenny, his laptop open with assignments to complete as he looked curiously at the smaller blond.

“Kyle was here? Why didn’t you tell me?” Butters questioned, slightly hurt. Kenny reached out his hand and stroked the top of Butters’ head. 

“Sorry babe; Kyle said he didn’t want anyone to know. I think he figured you might blab to someone.” Kenny reasoned, Butters still looking slightly irritated. 

“Well sure I did that stuff when we were kids, but I don’t do that much anymore, honest!” He defended, Kenny smiling in return. 

“Yeah, I know you don’t, but old habits die hard. He was probably just trying to take precautions.” Kenny assumed. A few moments later, he heard the door knob begin to turn as someone was undoing the lock. 

“Shit…” Kenny mumbled as he looked for a place to hide the bright green hat. With only a few seconds notice, the best place he could find was behind a couch cushion, hoping to god that Stan wouldn’t be in much of a mood to crash in the living room. 

“Jesus Christ, we need to get this door fixed. The lock always sticks.” Stan announced as he barged in and tossed his smelly football bag to the side of the door. 

“I thought you guys were gonna be in Seattle the whole weekend.” Kenny changed the subject, sitting right on top of the cushion he hid the hat under. 

“We were supposed to be, but we lost in the preliminaries pretty bad. We got sent home early.” Stan corrected in a defeated fashion, running his hands through his now much longer hair. Stan flopped down on the single-person chair across from Kenny, flinging off his shirt that was nearly stuck to his body from the sweat and letting out a long sigh.  
The combination of his personal perspiration and the bag made the house instantly smell like a gym change room after the goddam Super Bowl. 

“Jesus dude, I get that you can rock the shirtless look, but for Christ’s sake, take a goddam shower before you release that stench in the house.” The blond complained, covering his nose and choking on his breath. 

Stan rolled his eyes as he stood up and grabbed the shirt off the floor. “God, sorry. I had other shit on my mind.” He told him with a mixture of discontent and nervousness, as evident by the fact that he seemed slightly shaken up. 

“Oh, like what?” Kenny questioned curiously. Stan shook his head. 

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll let you know if it actually becomes something to worry about.” Stan replied, making his way to the bathroom. 

“Now I wanna know too.” Butters piped up from the table. Kenny let a smirk slip from the corner of his mouth. 

“I bet I can guess what it is.” Kenny called to Stan as he was about to shut the door. The black haired boy spun around and looked curiously at the blond. 

“Yeah? What is it then?” Stan challenged, arms crossed across his bare pecks. Kenny craned his neck around to look at the shirtless, uneasy looking guy standing in the hallway; he knew all too well the expression he was sporting. 

“Well, you’re nervous as hell, but you don’t seem distraught like someone in your family’s sick or something.” Kenny deduced. Stan nodded, leaning his hip against the wall, listening to his detective work. 

“Right.” Stan affirmed, waiting for more. 

“Another thing is that you’ve had the phone in your hands since you walked in and you’ve been checking it nonstop as if you’re expecting someone to answer something. You were even about to bring it to the shower.” Kenny continued. 

“Dude, I bring my phone to the bathroom all the time. What’s so different about now?” He challenged, spinning his tuque in his callused hands. 

“It’s your expression; it’s like your anticipating something. You’ve got that goddam look.” Kenny toyed around. 

“Kenny, what look?” Stan questioned curiously. 

“That look of ‘Oh fuck, did I get her pregnant’ look.” Kenny finalised. Stan’s eyes went wide. 

“How the fuck---”

Kenny started to laugh, “Ha! I fucking knew it. And come on, Stan; how the fuck do you think I’d know? I’ve been in your spot a couple times before.” He said as an understatement. 

“Jesus, I didn’t think it’d be that obvious.” He let out, sitting on the arm of the couch. “I’m not too worried about it yet; Wendy only missed two periods. That’s not a lot, right?” He reasoned aloud, trying to calm himself down by convincing everyone in the room that he was in the clear. Kenny’s mouth contorted into a strange expression. 

“Jesus Stan, you don’t know much about the female body, do you?” Kenny commented condescendingly. 

“Why? Is two periods a lot to miss?” Stan asked, his voice becoming higher as he got more nervous. 

“Uh…yeah dude, that’s a pretty big deal.” Kenny let him know honestly. Stan pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers and closed his eyes tight. 

“Jesus Christ; I really fucked up, didn’t I?” Stan asked rhetorically, his fingers still holding firm on his distraught face.

Kenny tapped his back a few times, not really having anything optimistic to add. “Dude, can I ask when this Wendy thing happened?” He questioned. 

Stan brought his head up and laughed a bitter laugh, “Oh god…the whole thing was so fucked up. It was like a month after Cartman’s death, and Kyle had just left too, so I was just… feeling super shitty.” He began, “It was after a party. We were both drunk and shit. It wasn’t anything romantic, far from it. We were just stupid and ended up fucking in my car.” 

Kenny raised an eyebrow, “Wendy was drunk?” 

“Yeah, dude. It was weird for me too. She was the one who imitated everything, actually.” Stan went on. “We didn’t even talk after that until a few days ago when she brought up the missed periods; we had no reason to talk. It was supposed to be just a one night thing…” 

Kenny furrowed his eyebrows at the black haired boy and asked one more question. “Did you guys use a condom?” 

Stan let out a sigh, “I could lie to you and tell you that we did and that the condom broke, but no, we didn’t.” 

“Well,” Kenny began, leaning back on the couch, “I’d say if she does turn out to be pregnant, I’d tell your parents and shit that lie about the broken condom. That’s what most people do anyways.” He deduced. Stan nodded.

“Yeah, at least that makes it sound like I was trying to be responsible.” He concluded, standing up and making his way back down the hallway to the bathroom. 

“Well for both of your sakes, I hope it’s nothing to worry about.” Kenny said with a lack of confidence. 

“Yeah, me too. It’d be just one more thing I don’t need to be dealing with.” 

When Stan was done his shower, he made his way into the living room and sat down on the couch, his mind too busy to go to bed. He didn’t want to check his phone; he knew Wendy was going to tell him the results of her pregnancy test that night and he wasn’t ready to deal with that. In fact, he felt unready to deal with nearly everything that happened that year. Beginning with Cartman’s death, following with the loss of his best friend, and now this? And those things weren’t even accounting for the stress of school itself and keeping up his football skills. Stan felt like he couldn’t catch a break this year. Just one bad event after another. It was fucking exhausting. 

As he was about to fall asleep on the couch, he felt something strange against his back. He twisted himself around and noticed something stuck in between the back of the couch and the cushion. He reached back and grabbed whatever it was, turning on the lamp to get a better view. There was no mistaking what it was and who it belonged to. 

Stan clutched the green fabric in his hands, confused. How did Kyle’s hat get behind the couch? He didn’t have a key anymore, so how’d he get in? Did Butters or Kenny let him in? Had he come before? Why didn’t Kenny or Butters mention it to him? All the questions raced around Stan’s head, but despite not knowing any of the answers, he was surprisingly calm. He thought that a token that represented Kyle so much as his hat would bring him anger and frustration, but it was just the opposite. Stan took hold of the hat and brought it close to him, allowing the smell of fresh laundry and his conditioning products to fill his nostrils that had been deprived of the scent for so long. He unknowingly fell asleep with the piece of clothing held up against his chest, just as he would have held Kyle. It gave him the feeling of being transported four months back before everything went to shit. It was nothing like the feeling of his warm body in his arms, but it was the closest he was gonna get. 

 

\---------  
“Hey Cartman, it’s me, Kyle.” The red head said with composure as he approached the tomb stone. The chilly November air wrapped around his frail body as he let out a shiver, his hands trying to hold his hat in place as the wind blew wildly around him. Kyle sat down and crossed his legs, holding a single white rose in his gloved hands. He placed the rose down atop the ground in front of the tombstone, staring blankly at the inscription. There wasn’t much written, just the day he was born, the day he died, his name, and a line about heaven or something that they put on any generic Christian tombstone. 

“I wonder what you would have wanted it to say.” Kyle asked as he ran his fingers over the bible verse. “Well, I guess that’s really not important though. People aren’t going to remember you just for some lame ass inscription like that.” Kyle said as he laughed bitterly to himself, thinking that that’s exactly what Cartman would have called it. 

“You know I’ve been here before, well, I tried to at least. See that tree over there? That’s the farthest I came before today. Today was the first time I saw your stone.” Kyle admitted aloud, keeping his emotions at bay. “I know Kenny and Butters have been here, your mom too. They aren’t fucking pussies like me. Ha, that’s kinda been a common theme in my life recently.” Kyle told the frozen ground where Eric was buried under. 

“I know you told me not to fuck up my life after you died, but I kinda did. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I just keep making shitty decisions.” Kyle spoke, pausing for a while as he took in the eerie peacefulness of the cemetery. 

“I stopped talking to Stan, by the way. God knows if you could still talk to him after everything, I should be able to, but nope. I’m just fucking miserable all by myself.” Kyle told the headstone, a tear collecting in his eye. “God, I just miss you so fucking much.” Kyle lamented, bringing his sleeve to his face as he tried to wipe away the tears that fell, his eyes turning red as more and more poured out until he no longer made any attempt to stop them. Kyle hated crying in public, but there he didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing him cry. No one was gonna come comfort him. No one even knew where he was. 

 

\---  
Stan parked his SUV and walked out, his feet crunching over the layer of snow that had formed on the frozen ground. The sky was a light grey colour, much like the colour of the headstones that surrounded him. The only bright colours that could be seen in the entire area were the pops of vibrancy created by the flowers people had left, something Stan figured he should have bought. 

“Hey dude.” He stated as he looked down at the slab of rock under which Cartman laid. “I uh, I’m sorry I didn’t come earlier. Looks like pretty much everyone else has been here but me.” Stan said in a low voice, observing the various trinkets left around his stone. “That’s pretty cute. Butters put a picture of your old cat here. ” Stan noted as he picked up a framed picture of Eric and Mr. Kitty when they were both young. The frame was bright pink and surrounded by hearts with a little message in Butters handwriting written in the corner. God, what a nice thought, Stan thought to himself. 

“I don’t know if you remember, but I’m pretty shitty at dealing with this death stuff. To be honest, I’m surprised I fared so well when you were alive. There were times that I wanted to just bolt and not deal with everything, to not see you in that state. But you know what? I’m glad I didn’t leave. I guess you kinda taught me something, something about how important it is to be with people even when it’s hard for you. I don’t think I’m as much a pussy anymore because of you. Thanks, I guess.” Stan told the stone with a weak smile, thinking that that would be something Cartman would have liked to have heard. 

“But I’m gonna be honest with you, things have gotten pretty bad since you died. Kyle doesn’t talk to me anymore, and uh, I fucked up big time. You’d think I was such an idiot if I told you what I’m about to say next, and I’d agree. I was.” Stan admitted to himself, wishing he could sit down. “Dude, I got Wendy pregnant. She said she would have aborted it if it weren’t already three months in when she found out. Luckily she doesn’t smoke or drink or anything, so nothing happened to the baby during that time that she didn’t know. God, how fucked up is this situation, right?” Stan asked rhetorically, shaking his head. 

“I guess in a way I’m terrified as fuck; you know how bad I am with kids. But in another way, I’m glad she didn’t abort it because it’s ours, you know? Even though I don’t love Wendy like I used to, she’s still a decent person and someone who I’d definitely trust with the responsibility of a kid. She said her parents would help out with taking care of it while she was still in school, so that’s pretty cool. They were pretty pissed at me when they found out, but I don’t blame them I guess. My parents thought I was a dumbass, but they weren’t really mad about it. Ha,” Stan laughed bitterly to himself, “It’s funny because the whole baby thing gives me less anxiety than the fact that I don’t talk to Kyle anymore.” Stan told the stone as he lowered his head. 

“Dude, I know you said to take care of your Jew, but I… I can’t if he’s not around. I swear to god Cartman, I tried. I tried. I just thought you should know that.” Stan said with more composure than he thought he’d have at this point. “I love you. Miss you, too. I’m sure I’ll be back soon enough.” Stan let out as he put his hat back on over his now shoulder length hair and began to walk away. As he turned around, he saw something that made him do a double take. 

“Kyle?” Stan inquired, looking at a bright orange coat and green hated person leaning against a tree. Kyle peeled himself off the tree and made his way towards Stan until he was standing only a few feet away from him. A light snow blew around them, the frigid December air hanging heavily around them. Neither spoke for what seemed like minutes. 

“Well, I was just leaving. I assume you came here to see Cartman.” Stan announced to the red head as he made his way back to his SUV, not bothering to see his reaction. 

“No, actually.” Kyle called out through the silence of the cemetery. “I came here to see you.” 

Stan spun around and made eye contact with his ex-best friend for the first time in six months. “What?” He questioned. Kyle cleared his throat. 

“I said that I came here for you this time. Kenny told me where you’d be.” He added to his original explanation. 

Stan nodded his head, “Oh, cool I guess. I should probably go though.” The raven haired boy shrugged off, trying to look as uncaring as possible to hide the crazy flow of emotions that were bubbling up underneath. Stan began to walk away, but a few moments later, he felt a hand grab his shoulder from behind. 

“Wait, Stan. Please.” 

“What?” He questioned, his blue eyes swimming with a mixture of nostalgia and bitterness. 

Kyle lowered his head, trying to summon up the courage to say what he wanted to say. “Stan, I…I wanted to apologise for everything.” 

Stan let out a laugh, “Oh, oh you wanna say sorry? Jesus Christ Kyle, it took you six months to realise you were being a horrible person?” He elaborated, taking his hands out of his pockets and crossing them in front of his chest. 

“Stan, I…” 

“You got up and left when everything was fucking crashing and burning. How could you just do that? How could you do that to all of us? To yourself? God knows I’ve been going through hell and back dealing with this; I can’t imagine what it was like for you.” The raven haired boy went on, his words becoming more frantic. 

“Stan, I had to.” Kyle said in defeat. 

“You had to? What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?” He questioned angrily. 

“Dude, it’s hard to explain.” He answered, not making eye contact. 

“Please, just try to explain it. I might not be a pre-med student like your friends, but I can still understand basic shit.” He retorted testily. 

“I just… I… It’s cause I felt fucking guilty, ok? I felt guilty for breaking up with Cartman so I started… I don’t know, fucking projecting on you, pretending you were Cartman or some shit.” He finally sputtered out. 

Stan let out a scoff, “Pfft, yeah, I figured that much.” 

“How?” The red-head asked. 

“Remember all those fucking nights we slept in the same bed? You’d sleep talk about him all the time. It was fucking torture to hear you drone on like that.” He admitted, all the stinging feelings coming back to him. 

“Stan, I was so fucking messed up. I’m so sorry.” He said, taking a pause to collect his breath. “That’s why I left, dude. Right when I realised what I was doing, I left. I didn’t want to keep treating you like shit.” 

“Well if breaking up with Cartman made you so messed up, why'd you do it?” Stan wondered, cocking an eyebrow. 

“’Cause I was still in love with you.” Kyle blurted out, his confession filling the eerie silence. Stan felt a warm feeling ignite inside him for the first time in months, but he knew it was too good to be true. He had to extinguish it again before he got hurt all over. 

“Yeah right, dude. If you were, you wouldn’t have left.” 

Kyle shook his head, “No dude, I was. I did it because I couldn’t hurt you anymore. It fucking killed me.”

Stan shook his head in return and let out a sigh. “Kyle, why didn’t you just tell me?” 

“Because I already fucked up so bad. The more time that went on, the more I figured you’d be mad at me. It was a vicious cycle.” He admitted aloud. 

“Well yeah, of course I’d be more mad. But you should have known that if you just told me the truth that I would have forgiven you.” Stan confessed, his softening eyes meeting Kyle’s. 

“Yeah, I know you would have, and that made me feel even worse.” Kyle declared, his green eyes almost glowing amidst the white surroundings. 

“Dude, I don’t mind forgiving you, you know why? ‘Cause you put up with my shit all my life. I didn’t deserve half the times you forgave me, but you did because you were a fucking awesome friend.” Stan told him with a laugh, realising how true that was. 

“So you do?” Kyle questioned. Stan raised an eyebrow. 

“I do what?” 

“Forgive me?” 

Stan laughed again, taking off his tuque and rubbing the back of his neck. “You know, it’s funny. I figured when I finally saw you again, I’d just blow up in your face, make you feel as shitty as you made me feel, or at least try to replicate that, but now that you’re actually here? I can’t fucking do it. I’d never be able to do that to you.” 

Kyle smiled a smile he hadn’t in a long ass time. “Dude, I don’t know what to say.” 

“How about we call it even?” Stan suggested, mirroring Kyle’s smile. 

Kyle chuckled, “Sure. That works.” Kyle and Stan looked at each other with an air of optimism between them that they hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever. As mad at themselves and each other they were, they still couldn’t let something like that stand in the way of their friendship that had endured so much before. Stan leaned in and wrapped his arms around Kyle, assuring him that he really did mean what he said about forgiveness, Kyle being more than willing to reciprocate the embrace. 

“So does this mean I can move back in with you guys?” Kyle questioned as they let go. 

“Hey wait, I thought you wanted to be closer to the school with your smart-ass medical friends?” Stan questioned with a raised eyebrow as they made their way to their cars. 

“Yeah…they all suck ass. Fucking pricks, all of them.” Kyle told him sincerely. 

Stan let out a laugh, “Glad to hear.” 

They both approached their cars and opened the driver’s side doors, but as they were about to get in, Stan still had something to ask his previously wayward friend who had returned. 

“So you want help moving your shit?” 

Kyle shook his head. “Nah, I think I used you enough. I got Kenny helping me with that.” Kyle assured. 

“Oh, so you’ve hung out with Kenny?” Stan asked, not overly surprised. 

“Well I wouldn’t call it hanging out. More like trying to figure my shit out. He’s the one who’s been pushing me to see you.” Kyle explained, “Are you mad?” He asked with a tilt of the head. 

“No, I assumed you guys hung out at least a few times.” 

“How?” Kyle wondered. 

Stan smiled to himself, “Well, you sort of left something at the house that indicated it.” 

Kyle searched his mind for what it might have been but came up with nothing. “What?” 

Stan went into his car and searched through the glove box until he pulled out the exact same green coloured piece of clothing he knew Kyle had multiples of. 

“This.” Stan told him, showing him from in front of his car, his hip leaning on the metal exterior. 

“Oh god, you found that?” Kyle questioned rhetorically.

“Yup.” Stan nodded. 

“And you, uh, kept it in your car all this time?” 

Stan felt warmth coming to his pale face, “Haha, yeah I guess so.” He admitted, trying hard not to blush. 

“Well, I mean, I kept a shirt of yours too.” Kyle confessed, scratching the back of his own neck. 

“Which one?” 

“The bluish grey one. The one you wore all the time.” Kyle specified. 

“Ah, so that’s where it went.” He smiled to his friend, Kyle smiling back. 

“So you’re sure me moving back in is ok?” Kyle wondered one last time before he stepped into his parent’s car. 

“Yeah, I mean as long as Kenny and Butters are fine with it and you, you know, don’t decide to run away again, I’m fine with it.” He half joked. 

“Don’t worry. I won’t be going anywhere any time soon.” Kyle replied with confidence. 

“Good.” Stan finalised, stepping into his car, giving Kyle a wave from the inside of it as he drove away, Kyle waving back. 

 

About a week later, Kyle was all moved in, and right before Christmas too. As Kenny dropped the last of his boxes into his bedroom, he nudged the red-head with his elbow as he was exiting the room. 

“So you don’t see him as Cartman anymore?” The blond whispered. Kyle shook his head. 

“Nope. He’s just Stan again.” Kyle said with a smile. 

“So what’s that mean for you guys?” Kenny wondered, referring to their unaddressed romantic feelings towards each other that hadn’t been spoken of in quite some time. Kyle shrugged his shoulders. 

“I don’t know, but I guess we’ll see.” Kyle added with an air of optimism, sending Stan a smile as he passed by the open door. Kenny looked at him and raised his eyebrows, Kyle rolling his eyes in return, still sincerely hoping Stan hadn’t totally lost all romantic feelings for him over the course of half a year. He knew he hadn’t.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This took a while to do for some reason. Anyways, I hope it's alright.

The holidays were a busy time. Exactly a day after Kyle had unpacked everything, the guys headed back to South Park to be with their families for the little time they had off. Everyone’s extended family came down, even Kyle’s family from the east coast. Sure Hanukah was well over, but a belated holiday was better than nothing. The guys didn’t see too much of each other during that time even though they were only a couple doors down from each other, but there really wasn’t anything they could do about that. 

Their first Christmas and New Years without Cartman was strange, but not unbearable. Luckily with time they were slightly mended. They were starting to be able to think of the good memories that came with him instead of breaking down on the inside every time something reminded them of him. The progress was slow, but it was there nonetheless. 

Kyle awoke early the morning after they had driven back from South Park, his eyes heavy with lack of sleep and his stomach still full of gefilte fish. He had an idea in his mind that he had thought of since coming back to live with the guys and now was his time to act on it. He stood outside of Stan’s door and knocked a few times, assuming he was still tired from driving. He heard a stretching, grumbling sound from within, so he took that as an invitation to enter. 

“Hey Stan.” Kyle whispered, not wanting to blind him by turning on the lights. Stan rolled over in his bed, eyes still closed. 

“Yeah?” He yawned, his black hair sprawled over his pillow. God he looked cute in the morning, Kyle thought, finally able to appreciate what he saw right in front of him. 

“I was wondering if you wanted to go to get some coffee, you know, to catch up.” Kyle questioned, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. Stan rubbed his eyes but kept them closed as he answered. 

“To catch up? Kyle, you don’t have to pretend like we have to start all over again.” Stan reminded him. Kyle shook his head. 

“No, it’s not that. But think about it; the day after I moved in, we all left for South Park. Besides that time I met you at the cemetery, we haven’t had a good talk in… months.” Kyle explained, watching as Stan opened his eyes and looked at him with a crooked, sleepy smile. 

“That’s true. Alright, just let me have a shower first.” Stan complied, closing his eyes again. 

“Sure. Meet you downstairs in a bit.” Kyle finalised, getting up off the bed. Stan didn’t bother using his words to reply; he stuck up his hand and gave him a thumbs up, flopping his hand back down once the gesture was made. Kyle forgot that he wasn’t much of a morning person.

Kyle went back to his room and pondered for a while about what to wear to the café. He hadn’t worried about his physical appearance like that in a while, especially not around Stan, but he remembered the feeling well. It was the same feeling he had when he started taking interest in Cartman, and the same feeling he had towards Stan for practically all of high school minus his senior year. He felt nervous, but not an anxious nervous, more the type of nervous you get before a first date. An excited nervous. Roller-coaster nervous. A nervous where his heart was pounding but he couldn’t keep a smile off his face. It was like fucking ecstasy or the best caffeine high ever. God he loved this feeling. 

He rummaged through his closet and looked for something, anything really, that would look good. He settled on a dark green polo shirt and navy jeans; he went for the trying-to-keep-it-casual-but-still-impressive look. Unfortunately the shirt was baggy on him, though, well, all his shirts were.

He made his way downstairs and waited on the couch, hands clasped in his lap. It didn’t take Stan long to get ready, seeing as he was used to showering and readying himself quickly from football. He managed to do it again, Kyle thought; look as good as possible with minimal effort. Just light jeans and a dark red, fitted V-neck was all it took. Kyle wondered when Stan started wearing more fitted things, but whatever the reason, he was glad he did. 

“Ready?” The dark haired boy questioned, pushing back his long hair. Kyle nodded and got up from the couch. 

“Yup.” He said as he headed to the door, Stan making his way there before him. 

“Here,” He gestured as he opened the door for Kyle, waiting for him to exit before he did. “We’ll take my car if you want.” Stan offered, locking up behind him. 

“Are you sure? You just drove to South Park last night. That was probably a lot of gas.” Kyle noted, waiting for Stan to unlock the doors. 

Stan gave him as dismissive hand as he made his way over, “Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind driving you. It reminds me of old times when you didn’t have a car and relied on me.” He stated with a laugh as he unlocked the doors, letting himself in. Kyle smiled to himself, admiring Stan’s bouts of nostalgia. 

“Let me at least pay you for gas.” Kyle offered as Stan started the engine. 

“Don’t worry about it, seriously Kyle. It’s not that far, right?” Stan inquired, checking as he backed out of the driveway. 

“No, not at all.” Kyle assured him. 

“Good. If you really want, you can pay for my coffee.” Stan suggested. 

“Dude, I was gonna do that anyway. This is my way of trying to make up for at least some of what I put you through.” Kyle admitted, looking at his gloved hands. “Honestly Stan, I wish I could take back these past few months. Abandoning you was probably one of the worst decisions I made in my life, and I’ve done a lot of stupid shit.” 

Stan laughed aloud, “Dumber than getting a surgery to make yourself tall and black?” 

Kyle laughed in return, “Well, that was a different level of stupid. This was worse.” Kyle said in a soft voice. 

Stan shifted his eyes over to his friend’s and looked at him for a second, “Was it?” 

Kyle nodded, “Yeah, because I hurt you.” 

Stan placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder as they approached a red light and turned towards him. “Kyle, look at me.” Stan instructed. “Sure, what you did was shitty, but I get why you did it, even if you did go about it in not the best way you could have. Please don’t beat yourself up over this forever. I wouldn’t mind just going back to how things were. I’m willing to try to put it behind us if you are.” Stan offered, his steel blue eyes gracing Kyle’s. 

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Kyle agreed as he smiled up at Stan while he answered. Stan moved his hand from Kyle’s shoulder and placed it delicately on his green glove, touching the fabric like it was the first time he ever felt wool. 

A horn broke the silence that filled the car. Kyle looked up and observed the traffic lights. “I think the light changed.” 

Stan chuckled as he took his foot off the break. “Oh god…” He sighed to himself, shaking his head. “At least we’ll be somewhere where we can talk soon.” 

“Yeah, it’s about time.”

 

Kyle directed Stan to a small café on the outskirts of town. Right when they walked in, they could feel they an atmosphere of hipsterism: the plaid shirts, the beards, the soft background music, hell even the clandestine location. Stan raised an eyebrow at Kyle and tried not to laugh. 

“Dude, how’d you find out about this place?” He judged as they took a seat near the back at a small black table. 

“This is where some of the guys from my program would come. I honestly don’t know any other coffee places other than this and the mainstream ones that are always crowded and loud.” He explained. “I know it’s hipster as hell, but at least they’re quiet here.” Kyle elaborated in a whisper to prove his point. Stan nodded,

“Yeah, they seem to be.” He agreed, not minding the location after having settled in and taken in the surroundings. Kyle sat on the edge of his chair and put his elbows on the table, his hands under his chin. 

“So, what have you really been up to this past semester?” Kyle asked curiously. Stan let out a nervous laugh and scratched the back of his neck. 

“How about you go first? I’m sure your life’s been a lot more interesting than mine.” Stan suggested, not entirely believing his own statement. 

“Uh, well to be honest, there really wasn’t too much that happened. I already told you about the pretentious students, and I guess I could mention the asshole teachers…” Kyle said as he searched for anything worth telling. “Well, if I wanted to admit something embarrassing I could mention how I did pretty badly in a lot of my classes. Like, holy shit were they hard. It kinda sucks because I was used to getting really good marks in high school, but here? God, I was barely understanding the material.” He explained, letting out a sigh. “But I did learn a lot. I think I’ll do better next semester.” 

Stan nodded in agreement, “Yeah dude, don’t worry. I did pretty shit in a lot of my classes too. I mean, if the profs knew what we were going through, I don’t think they’d blame us for being too distracted to study sometimes.” He sympathised. “I don’t think you’re any less smart because you didn’t get all A’s.” 

Kyle let out a bitter laugh, “Stan, I barely even got B’s.” 

Stan rolled his eyes, “Come on Kyle, you know you’ll be fine. It just took some adjusting. I’m sure next semester will be better, especially considering more time has passed to, you know, heal.” He assured, placing a hand over top of Kyle’s hand that he had laid on the table. Kyle felt a warm sensation flow through him as Stan’s skin touched his. He couldn’t help but let out a smile, a genuine, beautiful smile. 

“I don’t know how you do that.” Kyle told him with a grin. Stan cocked an eyebrow his way. 

“Do what?” 

“Just…make everything seem like it’ll be ok.” Kyle admitted, hoping the warmth he felt building up inside him wouldn’t radiate to his exterior. Stan smiled back, his bright white teeth glistening even in the dim lighting.

“Well it’s you. Of course everything will be.” Stan assured, Kyle’s green eyes blazing into his. It was at that moment that they both felt it- that connection that only the two of them had between them. It was an unspoken understanding that they both shared generated by a look. It had been a while since they shared it, but they still knew what it was when they felt it. The last few times they shared that look they were forced to diverge their eyes away from each other, but not this time. The look didn’t cease until a voice broke the silence between them. 

“Uh, are you guys gonna order anything?” A teenage waiter with long blond hair questioned. “If you guys are gonna stay, you need to order somethin’.” He repeated, his small notepad dangling limply in his lanky arms. 

“Oh uh, yeah.” Kyle told him as they broke the gaze and picked up the small menu, deciding what to order. Once their orders were placed, they leaned back comfortably in the uncomfortable chairs as a sense of relaxation washed over them. 

“This was a good idea, Kyle.” Stan complimented, “I really miss just spending time with you.” He continued sincerely. 

“Yeah, me too.” Kyle agreed, wondering how many people in the café thought they were on a date and how many thought they were just friends. 

“I’m glad you’re actually eating something too. Kenny told me you kinda stopped making meals a regular thing?” Stan asked with a concerned tone. Kyle scratched the back of his neck and gave an uncomfortable laugh. 

“Uh…yeah, I did kinda not care about food too much at one point.” He told him honestly, “But you don’t have to worry about that anymore; I definitely eat normal again. I swear to god, when I went home last week, all my relatives did was talk about how skinny I got, so naturally they made me eat everything in sight. I probably gained back half the weight I lost.” Kyle said lightly.

“Good.” Stan commented. “Either way though, you look good.” Stan told him in a softer tone. 

“So do you, even with your new hair.” Kyle said with a grin. 

“Oh this?” Stan laughed to himself, taking off his tuque and combing his hand through his surfer hair. “God, I should have gotten a haircut during Christmas break but I never got around to it. Similar to what you did with food I did with hair. I just kinda… stopped caring. That explains the stubble too that you saw me with that day in early December too.” Stan explained, putting his hat back on. 

Kyle shook his head, “Don’t worry about it. Actually, it looks nice. You can pull it off way better than that guy.” Kyle noted as he directed his gaze towards their waiter. 

“Ha, really?” Stan questioned, observing the teenager. 

“Yeah, dude.” Kyle assured, finding it hard to break his eyes away from Stan’s. 

Soon enough their food came, and so did a mid-twenty-something plaid shirt wearing man with an acoustic guitar who began to play unrecognisable songs in the corner of the room. Everyone was bobbing their heads to the seemingly familiar tune as Stan and Kyle looked at each other with elevated eyebrows. 

“You know this song?” Stan asked Kyle, both of them directing their attention towards the guy. 

“No, never heard of it. He’s good though.” Kyle noted. 

“Yeah, for sure. It makes me wanna start to play again.” Stan reminisced, leaning his head on his hand. 

“Man, it’s been years since I’ve played. I don’t even know if I remember any cords.” Kyle spoke honestly. 

Stan came up with an idea on the spot. “Would you want me to give you a refresher course?” He suggested. It didn’t take Kyle long to make that decision. Getting to relearn a skill plus getting to spend more time with Stan? What was there to think about? 

“Yeah dude, that’d be great. That is, if you don’t mind teaching someone who forgot almost everything.” Kyle warned him. Stan shook his head. 

“Not at all. I’m not the greatest teacher you’ll find either, so you’ll have to bear with my methods.” The raven haired boy cautioned in return. Kyle rolled his eyes at his friend and met his glance. 

“I think I’ll be able to endure it.” 

 

When the boys arrived home after their trip to the café, they found the house to be empty. Butters left a note on the kitchen table that said that he and Kenny would be out all day. It seemed the day was turning out to be more and more ideal as it went on for Stan and Kyle, for once. 

Kyle waited patiently on the couch for Stan to bring his guitar down. When he entered the living room, he saw he also had some books in his hands, which Kyle figured contained some basic cord charts or something. 

“Alright, ready to become a juke box hero?” Stan joked, his Foreigner reference not going unnoticed. 

“Are you gonna make song references throughout this whole thing?” Kyle questioned lightly as he made room for Stan beside him. 

“I could, but I’ll stop there.” Stan said with a smirk, handing the red and dark brown acoustic to Kyle. Kyle positioned the large instrument awkwardly in his lap and sat up straight, trying to get comfortable. 

“If it helps you can sit on the edge of the couch and have it rest kinda in between your legs a bit.” Stan suggested, pushing Kyle’s back forward and reaching his arms around his shoulders to help reposition the guitar. 

“Here, move your hand up a bit.” He went on, moving his hand up for him on the neck, his mouth directly in front of Kyle’s ear, sending shivers through his whole body whenever he spoke. 

“Perfect.” Stan praised as he looked at Kyle’s hold on the instrument. Kyle waited for his next instruction, hearing his heart beat faster in his ears. Stan broke himself away from Kyle for a moment to grab the song book, the front of it just displaying a chart of basic cords, as Kyle assumed. 

“We can start with these if you want. How many do you remember?” Stan wondered, remembering that the last time they played guitar together was quite some time ago. 

Kyle laughed aloud, “Barely any. Maybe a G cord.” He told him honestly, Stan smiling in return. 

“That’s fine. You’re a fast learner; I’m sure you’ll remember once we go over them.” He assured Kyle. Stan pointed to the first cord in the book,

“Do this one.” He suggested. Kyle looked at the picture of the neck with dots where the fingers were supposed to go and followed the model. 

“Like this?” He asked, recalling the hand position. 

“Yeah, exactly. Now this.” Stan continued, pointing to the second one. Kyle repositioned his fingers so they were more stretched out. He remembered why he didn’t get too into guitar; it was a pretty weird instrument to get used to. 

“This?” Kyle questioned, looking less sure about this cord. Stan tilted his head and cocked an eyebrow. 

“Uh… not exactly. Here,” He instructed, moving Kyle’s hand up the neck and pressing his fingers down on the strings. “Like that.” He finished, his arm wrapped around his shoulder. Kyle turned his head to the side and saw Stan’s face leaned almost right against his, his breath hitting his cheek. Kyle wasn’t quite sure what it was or why he felt that way, but there was always something about Stan that he was drawn to that any amount of time didn’t seem to change. Any opportunity to be close to him, he’d take it. Any time he could just be with him, he’d go for it. That being said, when he was separated from him, there was almost a part of him that seemed to be missing. He never lost those feelings; if anything, that time apart made them stronger. Kyle was always pretty good at reading other people, and from his observations, Stan seemed to reciprocate at least some of what he was feeling.

He figured he might be going out on a limb, but there was something he had to try. When Kyle heard that Stan’s breath was just as unequal as his was, he figured it was time to see just what would happen. Kyle craned his neck so that he was looking directly at the raven haired boy straight in the face and went for it. He brought his lips forward and closed his eyes, making long overdue contact with the mouth he thought about kissing for so many years. At first, Stan didn’t know how to react. Was this actually happening? He thought for a moment as he allowed reality to sink in. After a few more seconds he realised that yes, it was. As Kyle was about to take his lips away, probably nervous because of Stan’s lack of reaction, he reciprocated. Stan’s thick lips took back Kyle’s, using his hand that wasn’t around his shoulder to pull his face in closer. The two closed their eyes and let themselves get lost in a feeling they both longed for for what seemed like forever. The kiss was strong, yet still so delicate. Stan had never felt this level of nervous excitement with anyone…ever, and he had quite an extensive list of experience. Kyle? While Kyle’s list was smaller, he still did have a serious relationship to compare it to. Seconds after their lips touched, Kyle knew he wouldn’t feel the need to compare it to how he kissed with Cartman. It was different with Stan, physically and emotionally. A good different, though. An amazing different. 

Neither of them wanted that moment to end, but it quickly came to a halt when they heard the sound of the front door being unlocked. They pulled away from each other and tried to fix their appearances so they didn’t look…well, basically like they had just made out, as brief as it was. When the door creaked open, it was no surprise that it was their roommates entered. Kenny flopped down on the couch and let out a long, dramatic sigh, hauling a gym bag over his shoulder and onto the carpeted floor. 

“Goddammit Stan, how do you workout like every fucking day? Just a couple hours with this one and I’m exhausted.” Kenny explained as he gestured to Butters who was taking a sip from his water bottle, a smile stretching across his face. 

“Practice, dude. Practice.” Stan said as he tried to clear his throat, his mind still very much preoccupied with what had just happened. 

“You did good though, Ken. Don’t worry.” Butters praised, sitting on the edge of the couch. Kenny smiled up at him. 

“Thanks, babe.” Kenny stated, placing a soothing hand on Butters’. “You guys didn’t forget about Kyle’s re-house warming movie night tonight, did you?” Kenny questioned, searching their still slightly bewildered faces. They both shook their heads and scoffed. 

“Dude, why do you think we were already down here?” Stan questioned, coming up with an excuse as to their close proximity and possibly other signs that they missed. If anyone could figure out that something had just gone on between two people it was Kenny, and with Stan and Kyle themselves not entirely sure as to the significance of what happened, they didn’t really want Kenny pointing anything out that they hadn’t addressed yet. 

“Uh huh. Anyways, we agreed on the third Lord of the Rings, right?” Kenny questioned, eyeing the two of them. Stan and Kyle nodded. 

“Yup.” Stan expressed aloud, the movie the farthest thing on his mind. 

“Butters, have you even seen this movie?” Kyle questioned, trying to sound casual as he remembered the whole mix up with the VHS’s back when their parents sent them on that “quest” to bring the movie to the house of Butters. 

“No, not yet, Kyle. I heard it’s pretty good though.” The blond piped up optimistically. 

“God, I still need to get my hands on a copy of that porno; what was it called again?” Kenny questioned, his arm draped lazily around Butters’ shoulders, back pressed against the couch. 

“Back Door Sluts 9.” Butters confirmed with confidence. 

“Oh yeah, that was it.” Kenny remembered, having heard the name while he was sharing Cartman’s body. 

“Instead of trying to look for it, I can show you what I remember.” Butters said in a smooth voice, raising an eyebrow at Kenny. Stan and Kyle’s eyes went wide, not used to hearing that type of talk from Butters at all. 

Kenny smirked at the two of them on the couch and laughed, “What? You think didn’t think I’d date someone who was fucking vanilla, did you?” He questioned rhetorically, placing a strong, hard kiss on Butters’ lips. 

The movie went on for hours, both pairs reacting very different to the film. Butters sat on the edge of his seat, continuing to ask Kenny questions about what was going on, Kenny rolling his eyes and answering them despite the fact that he was getting clearly a little annoyed. Then again, he had been dating Butters for quite some time, so he was more or less used to it by that point. It was mostly just endearing now. 

Stan and Kyle on the other hand couldn’t really focus on the dramatic war scenes and journeys through the rough terrain trying to reach Mordor; all they could only think of was the person sitting directly beside them. Whatever happened earlier that day wasn’t something either of them could get off their minds. The tension they felt sitting next to each other was almost unbearable. Stan was almost biting his lip as he struggled to keep his mouth shut and a thousand questions pouring out, knowing that this wasn’t the time or the place to ask all those things, nor would he really be able to express coherently what he wanted to say. How could he? The guy he liked for years just made a move on him literally a couple hours prior; that wasn’t something that would be able to go unaddressed. 

When the movie ended, Kenny was practically asleep on the couch, the rest of them still wide awake. Butters picked Kenny up like he was a sleeping princess and began to head upstairs, Kyle and Stan following to avoid any suspicion. Both of them went to their separate rooms and shut their doors, knowing that neither of them would be able to get any sleep that night. 

Half an hour turned into an hour as Stan laid awake in bed, thoughts buzzing in his mind. There were too many things going on to make sense of them; too many incoherent possibilities flying around his brain. He couldn’t shut his eyes without thinking about the image of Kyle’s lips approaching his, and the warm feeling of his flushed cheeks as Stan wrapped his hand around them… 

Just as Stan was deep in thought, he heard a knocking at the door. Stan sat up straight and rubbed his eyes, beckoning whoever it was to enter. 

“Come in.” He whispered in the direction of the knock. The door creaked open as a small beam of light from the hallway came shining in. A familiar silhouette was positioned at the door frame: someone lean, of medium height, lean and had big, curly hair. There was no mistaking who it was. 

“Kyle?” Stan questioned as the figure paused at the entranceway. Stan heard the red head let his breath go before he cleared his throat.

“Do you… mind if I come in for a sec?” Kyle asked with a degree of uncertainty. 

“Yeah, of course.” Stan responded quietly, leaning over and turning on his bedside lamp. Kyle walked silently over to the bed and sat down on the edge of it, his hands clasped together in his lap. There was a pause before Kyle composed himself and decided to say what he had planned to.

“So, uh….you know that thing I did earlier today?” Kyle asked as he rubbed the back of his neck, an awkward smile etched upon his face. Stan let out a quick laugh. 

“Yeah?” He inquired, waiting for Kyle’s response. 

“Well, I, I’m sorry if that freaked you out or anything like that.” The red head apologised. 

“Dude, why would you ever need to say sorry for something like that?” Stan wondered, his blue eyes filled with more sparkle than they had been for months. “You remember that I, you know, kissed you back, right?” 

Kyle let out a laugh, “Yeah, I remember that.” He told him, letting out some of the tenseness in his shoulders. “I was just worried because during the movie you seemed a little…preoccupied, and I wondered if that had to do with me.” 

Stan’s eyes met Kyle’s as he responded, “Well yeah, of course it had to do with you, but not in a bad way.”

“No?” Kyle questioned, his emerald green eyes shining in the dimly lit room. 

“No, of course not. It was just hard for me to wrap my head around the idea that a guy I liked for god knows how long actually showed me some sign that he felt the same.” Stan told him honestly, barely believing his own words. Kyle’s mouth formed a bright white smile as he shook his head in disbelief. 

“Dude, I was so fucking worried that I ruined everything. I didn’t know if you still felt like that even after all that time passed.” He admitted. 

“Dude, it’s you. It would take a lot more than that for me to stop….well, liking you.” Stan declared, his tongue getting used to speaking exactly what was on his mind. “God, sorry if this is coming out weird.” He apologised. Kyle smiled into Stan’s eyes and laughed. 

“Don’t worry about it; you’re putting it way better than I would be able to.” Kyle admitted, both of them feeling a sense of relief wash over them. They almost simultaneously let out a sigh as they sat there and looked at each other as a newly established sensation passed through them. It was scary, but equally exciting. 

“You know, this could ruin our friendship forever.” Stan spoke after some contemplation. Kyle sat and thought for a moment before answering. 

“I don’t know about forever- we’ve been through some hard shit in the past and made it through ok.” He reasoned, “But I’ll admit, it is a pretty big risk.” 

Stan nodded in agreeance. “Do you think it’s worth the risk?” 

Kyle cocked his head to the side and thought for a moment, “Well, do you?” He questioned right back, Stan smiling at his lack of response. 

“To be honest, I think the pure “friendship” aspect of our relationship’s been gone for a while now. It’s not like I just woke up this morning and realised that I loved you. That’s been established for a long-ass time now, at least for me.” Stan explained, feeling the colour drain from his face as his nervousness rose, realising what he had just said. Kyle’s eyes were locked on Stan’s, his mouth slightly agape. Kyle didn’t speak for what seemed like minutes, Stan sitting there waiting for an answer. 

“God, Kyle say something please. You’re freaking me out.” Stan commanded anxiously. 

“Did you say that you loved me?” Kyle finally let out, his eyes gleaming. Stan swallowed hard. 

“Well yeah, I thought you knew that.” Stan stated.

“Platonically, yeah, but do you love me as more than that?” Kyle went on. Stan let out a quick laugh. 

“Yeah, dude. I sort of thought you assumed that too.” He added, scratching the back of his neck. “You said it first though, remember?” Stan reminded him, referring to the time in the hospital when he practically screamed it. 

“Oh god, yeah…” He thought back. “That was one hell of a Freudian slip.” 

“To be honest though, I’m kinda glad you let that slip out. It uh, well, it gave me… I don’t know, assurance or some shit. It kinda gave me something to hang on to even when you were gone, even when I was trying to let go.” Stan confessed. 

“Well then I’m glad I made it.” The red head stated with finality, his eyes locking onto Stan’s. As if they were drawn by a magnet, the two approached each other to the point where they were face to face, the nervous excitement hard to contain. Stan brought his hand out slowly and wrapped it around the back of Kyle’s head of curls, bringing his mouth to his, taking full control of the kiss he sprung on him. The touch of Kyle’s lips on his was euphoric. This time around, the contact was soft and sweet- a type of kiss he imagined having with Kyle all his life. Their lips moved like they’d been doing it all their lives, yet with a distinct nervous excitement that came from the fact that it was only their second kiss ever. Neither of them wanted it to stop, and without any interruptions this time, it didn’t have to. 

Kyle and Stan disregarded time, instead, they fully took in the moment that was theirs and theirs alone. They eventually found themselves in the same place they were months ago before everything turned to shit: side by side next to each other in a bed. This time though, there were a few differences. This time they faced each other, forehead to forehead touching, feeling every soft breath that came out of each other’s mouths as it hit their faces, sending small shivers through their entire bodies each time. Another huge difference for Kyle was that when he looked at Stan, he didn’t need to imagine anyone else in his place: the raven haired boy lying beside him was all he needed. 

 

“You never answered the question you asked me.” Stan declared tiredly, about to fall asleep.

“What’s that?” Kyle yawned in response, brushing a rogue strand of hair away from the face of the boy lying next to him. 

“Are you sure you’re ready to take the risk? To ruin this friendship?” Stan asked with a sleepy smile, knowing that whatever they did today had already sufficiently alerted whatever they had going before. 

“If by ruin you mean figure out what it means for me and you to be together, then yeah, I’m ready to fucking destroy it.” Kyle whispered with assurance, his smile mirroring Stan’s. Stan let out a quiet laugh before he turned out the light. 

“Good. Night, Kyle.” Stan cooed, lying his head back down directly beside Kyle’s. 

“Goodnight Stan.” Kyle finished, kissing his forehead lightly before shutting his eyes. Finally, something was turning out right, they both thought. It was about fucking time.

 

“See you guys!” Stan said cheerily to his housemates as he swung his backpack over his shoulders and headed to the door. “I’ll probably finish early. Any of you wanna watch another movie or something?” Stan suggested brightly. Kenny cocked an eyebrow at him. 

“Well you’re sure in a good mood today.” He snickered as though he already figured something was up. 

“Yeah well, why not? Anyways, see you guys after school. You have all day to choose what you wanna do.” Stan told them as the door closed behind him. 

“Oh shoot!” Butters stated abruptly as he realised his ride was leaving. “Hey Stan! Wait up!” The blond cried as he busted out the door, Kyle finishing up his cereal and checking his watch. 

“Oh god, it got so late so fast.” Kyle expressed aloud, bringing his bowl to the kitchen to clean. Once he had put it away, he put on his coat and began to walk to the entranceway, only to be stopped by a firm hand that grasped his shoulder. 

“Not so fast, Broflovski.” Kenny stated with a smile, turning the red head around. 

“Kenny, I don’t have time for this; I have to get to my first class on time. It’s a small class and the prof hates when people walk in late.” Kyle explained, trying to avoid what he thought might be coming next. 

“Dude, is that really the reason you don’t wanna talk to me, or is it because you think I might have started to piece together what happened last night?” The blond suggested with a smirk just like the ones Cartman used to make when he was scheming. 

Kyle crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow back at him, “You think you can use your Mysterion crime solving skills to figure this out or what?” Kyle asked playfully, causing Kenny’s smirk to turn into a broad white smile. 

“I don’t need to put on a cape to figure out what’s going on here.” Kenny stated slyly. “You know, you guys whisper a lot louder than you think.” 

Kyle’s eyes went wide for a second, “You heard us talking?” 

Kenny nodded. “Yeah, not the exact words, but I heard something. Dude, come on, just tell me what’s going on. You said yourself I’d be the first to know.” Kenny begged, his pretty boy face lighting up with curiosity. 

“There’s not much to say….yet.” Kyle declared with a sideways grin he didn’t mean to make. 

“Yet, eh?” Kenny questioned suggestively, giving Kyle a nudge in the ribs with his elbow, Kyle still unable to wipe the grin off his face. 

“Jesus, fine. Ok, we said we’d… give us a try.” Kyle admitted, adverting his eyes from Kenny’s violet ones. 

“There you go; was that so hard?” Kenny questioned, putting a hand on his shoulder and beginning to walk with Kyle to the door. “So if I hear the bed creaking at night, I won’t think you’re just jerking off really hard. I’ll even slip some condoms under the door if you want.” 

“Uh…I don’t think you’ll need to do that.” Kyle said with a cocked eyebrow, locking the front door as Kenny lead him to his car, Kyle assuming he was going to be getting a ride from him. 

“Oh that’s right, I’m sure you guys got some leftover.” Kenny joked as he unlocked the doors. “Well, maybe you do, I don’t know about Stan though.” The blond laughed, sitting down in the driver’s seat. 

“What do you mean by that?” Kyle questioned.

“Well, he’s not the best with keeping extra condoms on hand, if you know what I mean.” Kenny chuckled, starting the engine. 

“No actually, I don’t know what you mean.” Kyle stated, his eyebrows starting to furrow. 

“Oh shit, he didn’t tell you yet?” Kenny asked uneasily, playing with the tie strings on his hood. 

“Tell me what, Kenny?” Kyle almost shouted, his frustration building. 

“Well, uh… I think he should tell you. But Kyle, please listen to him and try not to let it make a difference in whatever’s going on between you guys.” Kenny tried to reason.   
Kyle let out a sigh and slumped back down into the seat. “Fine. I’ll ask him when he gets home. I don’t just know why you can’t tell me if you know, though.”   
Kenny let out a hard laugh, “Trust me, I think this is something you guys are gonna want to discuss just between yourselves.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think if you want ~


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter

When Kyle saw Stan later that evening, he didn’t bother bringing up whatever secret he was apparently hiding from him. He figured when Stan wanted him to know, he’d tell him; he wasn’t much for keeping secrets from Kyle. 

The hallway was empty and Kyle was late for class again. He was lucky to be one of the few that had a locker, but with the locker came the distance that the hallway was from all his other classes. He tiredly took out his last book, letting out a sigh and closing the door as he readied himself to tread off to his last class of the day. Just as he was about to set off, he felt a callused pair of hands wrap around his eyes. 

“Stan, I hope that’s you.” Kyle said with a smile, the first smile he had that day. 

“How’d you know?” The dark haired boy asked, keeping his hands over his eyes. 

“I don’t think anyone else would do that.” Kyle laughed, grabbing his arms and pulling them away from his face. 

“Kenny might.” Stan suggested, spinning Kyle around. 

“Yeah maybe, but I don’t know if he’d make the effort to come all the way here to see me for no reason.” Kyle reasoned, looking directly into his recently established boyfriend’s eyes. 

“No, I don’t think he’d do that.” Stan said in a smooth voice, brushing his hand against his cheek. Seconds later, Kyle felt his back touch cold metal as Stan slammed him against the lockers with a mischievous grin on his face. Stan saw that Kyle was about to protest his public display of affection, so he silenced him with a hard kiss, using one of his strong arms to keep him pressed against the wall. Almost too easily for Kyle's liking, he submitted to Stan, despite the fact that he still worried about someone coming around the corner at any given moment. The deeper and deeper the two plunged into their kisses, the farther and farther the worries went back into Kyle’s mind to the point where he almost forgot where they were. 

Stan reached around with his free hand to Kyle’s ass and groped it quickly, still aware that he was in a school setting and didn’t want to get Kyle into any shit. Kyle instinctively let out a low sigh and tossed his head back, Stan having recently discovered that his ass was an erogenous zone for him. 

“God, you’re gonna give me a hard-on in fucking school.” Kyle whispered into Stan’s ear, biting it as he pulled away, fixing his boxers inside his pants as he stood up straight and recomposed himself. 

“You’re lucky no one came down here.” Kyle threatened with a coy smile, Stan reciprocating it. 

“Don’t worry, dude. I was listening for people the whole time.” Stan assured, helping Kyle push his red curls back under his ushanka. Kyle pulled out his phone and checked the time, rolling his eyes. 

“Jesus, I’m really fucking late now. Too late.” He let out with a sigh. Stan raised an eyebrow at him. 

“I don’t know if I’d call twenty minutes ‘really fucking late’. You can still go.” Stan reasoned, taking his hand and pointing down the hallway. 

“It’s this way, Stan.” Kyle corrected, moving his hand to the right direction. “But yeah, you’re right; I still should go. Do you wanna sit in?” Kyle questioned, picking his book off the ground that he dropped. 

“On one of your lectures?” Stan clarified. Kyle nodded. 

“Yeah sure, why not? The class is big enough that no one’ll notice. Plus, you came all this way.” Kyle explained, taking his hands lightly in his and looking up into his blue eyes. 

“Uhhh…..sure, I guess. As long as you’re sure you won’t get in trouble or something for sneaking me in.” Stan agreed. Kyle rolled his eyes. 

“Dude, you just made out with me in the hallway and you’re more nervous about coming to my lecture?” Kyle chuckled, directing him in the direction of the room. Stan laughed in return. 

“You got a point there.” Stan grinned, following his boyfriend’s leadership as he manoeuvered him around the school. The two eventually approached the outside of the classroom door and waited, Kyle knowing that the whole auditorium would stare at the two of them as they walked in. 

“So am I finally gonna get to meet the assholes in your class after this?” Stan whispered into Kyle’s ear as Kyle positioned his hand on the door handle. 

Kyle let out a smile, “Actually, they’re not as bad as I first thought. I think I was kind of just bitter about a lot of things and that clouded my judgement.” Kyle admitted. Stan agreed with a nod and a grin. 

“Yeah, I know the feeling.” 

 

\-----

 

“Hey, you guys wanna stop macking on each other for a second and come downstairs? Butters gets impatient when it comes to baking.” Kenny asked as he knocked repeatedly on the door to Kyle’s room. In actuality, it was barely Kyle’s room anymore, just as Stan’s wasn’t really Stan’s. The two of them had their stuff in each other’s rooms, so much so that it was starting to become hard to tell who really had which room. 

“Kay, give us a minute.” Stan shouted back, his head nestled into Kyle’s shoulder, exhausted from the, well, events that just took place. The two let out a sigh as they laid next to each other for a few moments, neither of them wanting to get up. 

“I didn’t know they were here the whole time.” Kyle admitted, stretching his hands over his head, cracking his neck in the process. 

“Yeah well, I assume they went downstairs after they saw the sock on the door.” Stan replied with a smirk, Kyle rolling his eyes in response. 

“God, that’s not obvious at all.” The red head said as he got up to open the windows, allowing the chilly February breeze to flood the room, taking away the stale scent that filled the place. 

“Jesus Christ, it’s fucking freezing in here.” Stan quivered as he pulled the blanket up to his chin. Kyle flashed a smile his way. 

“Yeah well maybe it’d be better if you put some clothes on.” Kyle suggested as he made his way over to his closet and pulled out some Adidas pants and a sweater. “I mean, by all means, if you wanna stay naked, it’s totally fine with me.” Kyle added as he sat on the edge of the bed and grazed his fingers along Stan’s bare abs. 

“If it was just you and me, sure, but I think it’d kinda freak Kenny and Butters out a bit if I just waltzed in the kitchen clothes-less to bake a cake.” Stan joked, reluctantly moving away from Kyle and slipping into some sports shorts and a t-shirt. 

“I don’t think it’d freak them out. If anything, they’d just get some awkward boners.” Kyle played along in response, Stan rolling his eyes. 

“I’m not sure if I’m Kenny and Butters’ type.” Stan added, approaching the bedroom door to leave, fixing his hair in the mirror.

“You're right: tall, dark and handsome is pretty overrated.” Kyle joked, pulling his boyfriend in by the collar of his shirt for a quick kiss before they headed out the door.

“Nice of you guy to make an appearance.” Kenny declared sarcastically as Butters handed them some aprons to put on. 

“Here, put these on.” The small blond instructed after having given them the matching pink and white garments. Stan and Kyle raised an eyebrow at Butters. 

“Dude, are these really necessary?” Stan questioned, not overly fond of putting on something so feminine that his mom probably wouldn’t even wear. Kyle looked at the apron a little more closely, turning it over and analysing it. 

“Butters, aren’t these from Cartman’s house?” Kyle asked. Butters nodded. 

“Yeah. Liane said that that’s what they wore when they baked stuff together. She gave ‘em to me because she knew I liked to bake and she said they had a lot of ‘em.” He explained. Kyle slipped the fabric over his head and tied the strings in the back, smoothing it out and letting out a sigh as he reminisced. 

“God, I remember he made me wear one of these before when he was teaching me to bake some sort of tart.” The red head remembered. “He said I was a really shitty baker.” Kyle laughed. 

“Are you?” Kenny asked, leaning his hip against the oven that was in the process of heating up. Kyle nodded. 

“Yeah, like really fucking shitty. It’s not my fault though; my mom always made everything for us. I never had the chance to learn.” Kyle admitted. Butters put a hand on Kyle’s shoulder. 

“Well, hopefully I can teach you some stuff you’ll remember.” The scruffy haired blond said with a smile. Kyle mirrored the smile. 

“Yeah, hopefully.” Kyle agreed, looking down at the apron one last time before shaking off the memory. “Ok, so what’s first?” 

 

About an hour or so passed before the four boys had finished baking and messily icing their cake. 

“Wait, so what was the reason why we made a cake again?” Stan questioned as he brought it over to the dining room table and set it down carefully. 

“Does there need to be a reason to make a cake? Just for fun, Stan.” Butters shrugged, eyeing their creation. 

“Does there need to be a reason to drink champagne?” Kenny added, raising an eyebrow Stan’s way. Stan sent him a smirk back. 

“No, I guess not.” Stan reasoned. 

“See Butters, you just have to speak in a language a Marsh would understand: alcohol.” Kenny declared, giving Stan a light slap on the back as Stan rolled his eyes. Stan’s phone lit up on the table again, buzzing as the vibrations went off. 

“Jesus, that’s like the 50th call tonight.” Kenny stated, looking at Stan with some suspicion, referring the fact that while they were baking it had already gone off multiple times. 

“Yeah, I know. I don’t know why she keeps calling me.” Stan admitted, ignoring the call yet again. 

“You should probably call her back, dude.” Kenny suggested, Kyle and Butters seemingly out of the loop. 

“Call who back?” Kyle asked from his chair, head tilted in curiosity. 

“Yeah, I probably should.” Stan directed at Kenny, ignoring Kyle’s question. “Just give me a minute, Kyle. I’ll take this upstairs.” He added quickly, picking up the phone and crossing the living room. Just as he was about to ascend up the stairs, a loud banging could be heard at the front door. Kenny and Stan’s gazes met with wide eyes. 

“Stan, open the goddam door!” A familiar female voice screamed out. 

“Stan, is that Wendy?” Kyle asked with confusion, wondering of course why the raven haired girl was so angry. 

“Ok, ok, I’m coming.” He obeyed, again ignoring Kyle’s question as he approached the door. Stan gripped the handle with one hand and pinched the bridge of his nose with the other. 

“Oh Jesus Christ…” He told himself, realising the shit he would be in from Wendy for not answering her calls, along with the shit he’d be in with Kyle for not telling his boyfriend and best friend that his ex was 7 months pregnant with his baby. 

Stan opened the door slowly to a very angry and very pregnant Wendy Testaburger. 

“God, why the fuck do you think I called you like sixty times today? We have real fucking problems to talk about, Stan!” Wendy shrieked, riled up from hormones among other things. 

“Wendy, I’m sorry I didn’t answer. It’s just lately when you’ve been calling and saying that there’s an ‘emergency’ it’s just… not as big of a deal as you make it out to be.” Stan admitted, calling her out on her multiple overreacting phone calls she had made the past few months. 

Wendy rolled her hazel eyes, “Well it’s called being fucking pregnant, Stan; I can’t help it if I cried wolf a few times. But this, though, time it’s serious.” She declared as she made her way over to the couch to sit down. Kyle’s eyes went wide when he saw her, unable to know how to analyse the situation. 

“What is it?” Stan asked, sitting down across from her on the other couch, Kenny, Butters and Kyle watching the scene unfold from the dining room. 

Wendy let out a long sigh before answering, “The people that said they’d take the baby aren’t going to take it anymore.” 

Stan’s eyes went wide. “What?” He said in a panic. “I thought they were like really fucking stoked. What the fuck happened?” He cried out, not knowing how to calmly handle the information. Ever since Wendy had decided to put the baby up for adoption, Stan had had a lot less to worry about, but of course with this new complication arising, all his fears had returned. 

“I don’t know! Maybe they got scared of handling the responsibility? I don’t have a god damn clue. All I know is that the contract had some loophole they were able to get around, and now we lost the adoptive parents. But what’s important for us right now is what the fuck we’re gonna do at this point.” Wendy expressed, arms crossed across her chest, her boobs much bigger than they were before her pregnancy. 

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose for the second time that day, a sure sign to everyone in the room that he had no fucking clue. “Is it too late to find someone else?” 

Wendy sighed again, “Technically not, but whatever decision we’d be making now would be really rushed. It was bad enough deciding it at the end of December. I don’t know if we’d find anyone good enough.” She let out, tears collecting in her eyes. “God, I don’t know why I’m crying.” She mumbled. 

Stan couldn’t help but feel sympathy. He got up and sat beside her, wrapping Wendy in a tight hug in an attempt to calm her down, and himself. Wendy rested her head on his broad shoulders and tried to compose herself, a billion thoughts buzzing through her mind. 

“Stan, what are we going to do?” She repeated into his shoulder. 

Stan thought for a while before answering, his own mind clouded with uncertainty as well. “If you think we wouldn’t be able to find anyone good fast enough, which we probably wouldn’t, what do you think about what we originally agreed on? You know, us keeping it.” Stan suggested, a softness in his voice he rarely used, but that Wendy remembered well. 

The black haired girl raised her head up. “I don’t know. I changed my mind to adoption because I thought it’d be too hard with university…” She went on. “But then again, my mom and your mom did say they’d help.” 

Stan nodded, “Yeah, I know they would, and I would too.” He declared. Wendy picked her eyes up and looked at Stan with a smirk. 

“I think you should leave the baby stuff to Sharon, Stan.” She added. 

“No, seriously Wendy. If we’re going to keep this baby, you’re not going to be the only one taking care of it.” Stan almost pleaded, “You have to trust me. I’ll learn. I swear.” Stan told her in the nicest voice he spoke to her in in months. 

Wendy looked at him with sincere eyes and sighed, “Fine. But you better do a lot of fucking research. If you neglect this baby and something happens, I swear to god Stan.”

“Wendy please. It’d be a lot different taking care of my own kid.” Stan corrected her. Wendy rolled her eyes. 

“Well I fucking hope so ‘cause I really don’t think I can do this alone.” Wendy declared in an exasperated voice. 

“Dude, I promise.” The raven haired boy told his ex, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. 

“Jesus, I can’t believe I’m doing this.” She sighed, her fingers wrapping around her inky black hair. “Honestly, if it was with anyone else, I’d probably still try to look for someone to adopt it, even on short notice, but it’s different with you.” 

Stan raised an eyebrow at her, “Wendy, you ok?” He declared, a little off put by the kind words. Wendy rolled her eyes again. 

“Yes Stan, I’m fine. I’m not saying this in a romantic way; I’m just saying that I trust you as a person. I’ve known you my whole life, and I don’t think you’d do anything bad to this baby, and I’m pretty sure you’d pull your own weight if I asked you to.” Wendy clarified. “That being said, we’ll work out the actual arrangements of when you’d actually get to have the baby to yourself, considering we don’t live together or anything.” 

Stan nodded, “Yeah, we can figure that out in a bit. You just worry about keeping yourself healthy in the meanwhile, and uh, call me if you need anything, ok?” 

Wendy let out a smile, “You sure you’re going to answer?” 

Stan chuckled, “Yes, I will this time.” 

“Good.” Wendy added as she tried to get up from the couch, her belly making the simple act of standing up take a lot longer than usual. Stan reached out his hand and helped her up, Wendy somewhat reluctantly taking hold of it.

“Thanks.” She said with a nod, slipping her sandals back on her swollen feet. 

“No problem. Drive home safe. See you soon.” Stan concluded, giving her an awkward embrace around her stomach. “It’s pretty hard to hug like this, eh?” The black haired boy added with a laugh.

“It’s pretty hard to do pretty much anything.” She corrected, holding the door open. 

Stan stood in the doorway and scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. “I uh, again, I’m sorry for all this. This whole pregnancy thing must be really shitty to go through. I’m really proud of you. I’d never be able to handle it like you.” He congratulated her. 

“No, you probably wouldn’t.” Wendy agreed. “But it’s fine. I get some looks in the hallways here and there, but most of my profs are really sympathetic. They’re just glad I’m still in school.” She laughed. “Anyways, night, Stan.” Wendy finished. 

“Night.” He concluded with a closed mouth smile. 

“Wait, wait!” Butters cried out as Wendy was about to step off the porch. “Here, take some cake; we have tons.” 

Wendy smiled at the gesture. “Oh wow, thanks Butters. This is a huge piece though.” 

Butters let out a laugh, “But you’re feeding two.” 

“You’re right, thanks.” She laughed in return. “See you guys.” Wendy called out to the house. As soon as the door was closed, Stan was brought back into reality. He spun around to see the three roommates, all of whom were listening to every word he had said, but only one of them was totally clueless until about twenty minutes prior. 

“Well we’ll leave to uh…you know…let you guys….discuss this.” Kenny called out awkwardly, grabbing Butters hand and slowly making their way up the stairs, leaving only an expressionless Kyle and an extremely nervous Stan in the room. Stan unconsciously had his hands balled, causing them to sweat profusely. Kyle took a seat on the couch and stared at Stan, not saying a word. Stan joined him on the couch, his breathing becoming uneven as he tried to think of a way to explain, well, anything. 

“So uh…that wasn’t really how I wanted to tell you that…” Stan admitted, scratching the back of his neck. Kyle crossed his arms over his chest. 

“And when exactly did you plan on telling me? When the baby was already born? Would that have been a good time?” Kyle questioned stoically, his expression not changing. 

For what seemed like the hundredth time that day, Stan grabbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers, closed his eyes, and lowered his head. “God Kyle, I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.” 

Kyle let out a frustrated sigh, “Stan, when the fuck did this happen, and why the fuck did you not saying anything to me? I’m not just your best friend anymore; I’m your boyfriend. You don’t just hide the fact that you made another human being with your ex from me, that is, if she’s still just your ex.” 

Stan went wide eyed, “Jesus Christ Kyle, of course she’s still just my ex! Dude, it was literally a one-time thing that had no meaning, I swear to god. We were both drunk and I was an idiot, okay?” Stan explained, using hand gestures to help. 

“So you had to fucking continue the idiot trend by literally not saying a word to me about this for seven months? Goddammit Stan, this baby is going to be born in two months’ time and I didn’t know about it until today, and by accident too! Kenny and Butters both knew, and I’m sure probably everyone in South Park too with both your parents and hers knowing. Everyone except me. That fucking stings.” Kyle concluded, standing up from the couch.

“Kyle, I don’t know what to say.” Stan managed to say, not being able to properly explain himself with Kyle’s fury filling the room. 

“Well don’t fucking say anything. I’m going upstairs. Don’t bother trying to talk to me tonight.” The red-head finished, storming out of the room and making his way swiftly up the stairs. 

“Kyle, please!” Stan called to him, only to be faced with a slamming door to the face. Stan stood in the hallway wordless outside of Kyle’s bedroom door. The black haired boy waited for what seemed like hours for Kyle to come out, but he never did. When Stan looked at his phone and realised he had only been standing there for 7 minutes, he rolled his eyes, realising just how long this night was going to be. Without much thinking, he headed back downstairs to do something he hadn’t done out of stress in a long time: drink. 

By five in the morning, Kenny grew concerned. 

“God, he still hasn’t come up to sleep yet.” Kenny told his boyfriend who he was nestled under the covers with. Butters gave a worried expression. 

“I know… I hope nothing happened between him and Kyle.” The blond said with furrowed eyebrows. 

“Butters, of course something happened: didn’t you hear Kyle? He was one yell away from going Jersey on him.” Kenny went on. “I’m gonna go downstairs to see what’s keeping him.” 

“Do you want me to come with you?” Butters questioned, his soft green eyes gracing Kenny’s. Kenny placed a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Nah, it’s fine, babe. Go to back to sleep.” Kenny assured, saying his goodnights to Butters, not entirely sure how long he was going to be with Stan. He had an idea what he was up to; why else would anyone spend that long downstairs? Plus, he could have sworn he heard some clinking sounds not too long ago…

When Kenny came downstairs, he walked in to pretty much what he expected. Stan was sitting at the dining room table, face leaning against his hand, head drooped low. A half drunken mickey of whiskey was placed beside him with no shot glasses to be found, along with an empty bottle of white wine. 

“Jesus Stan, you don’t even like white wine.” Kenny stated as he slowly approached the table, picking up the bottle and observing it. Stan let out a laugh. 

“Yeah I know, but I thought it’d do the trick.” He stated smoother than Kenny imagined. 

“Dude, are you still sober?” Kenny questioned, slightly impressed by his high consumption and lack of signs of drunkenness. 

“I mean I wouldn’t drive a car, but no, I don’t feel anything. Maybe I had a buzz about an hour ago. Maybe.” Stan said in a disappointed fashion. 

“You know, this is girl’s wine or something. It’s only 6.5%.” Kenny told him with a grin. 

“Goddammit; I knew it tasted too sweet.” Stan replied with a weak laugh. Kenny let out a sigh before turning the conversation back to the real problem at hand. 

“So, uh, you wanna talk about anything?” The blond offered. Stan shrugged his shoulders. 

“There’s really nothing to say. I fucked up: that’s it.” 

Kenny scratched his thick, wild blond hair and attempted to think up some comforting words. “Well, Kyle hasn’t left the house yet, so that’s a good sign.” 

Stan shook his head but said nothing. 

“Listen, Stan, I’m sort of with Kyle on this one. You really should have told him before. I told you he’d be mad the longer you put it off. You should’ve known that he’d be able to handle knowing the truth.” Kenny explained, looking Stan straight in the face. 

“Yeah I know, I know.” He repeated, shutting his eyes tight. “But you know why I did it. I just got him; I couldn’t risk losing him again. Putting it off just seemed like the only sure way I’d keep him with me. But yeah, you guys are both right; that’s a pretty big thing to drop on someone so late in the game.” Stan admitted, his voice filled with fatigue and defeat. 

“Do you think he’ll get over it?” Kenny asked tenderly. 

“God, I hope so. To lose him over a stupid mistake like this would be the fucking worst.” Stan let out. 

“Well, I’m not stranger to stupid mistakes.” A familiar voice called out from the kitchen. “I’ll admit, I originally came down here to tell you not to drink yourself into a stupor, but that reasoning you gave Kenny and the fact that you’re a heavy weight stopped me from having to do that.” 

Stan picked his head up from the table and looked into the darkened face of his boyfriend. Kyle walked over and sat in between Stan and Kenny, letting out a sigh.

“Listen Stan,” Kyle began, “I had some time to think about it and I realised that I’m not that mad, I’m just… hurt.”

Stan nodded, “Yeah, I can imagine. Dude, I’m so sorry. Honestly, everything I told Kenny was true. I just didn’t want you running off again for some dumb ass thing I didn’t even intend on happening.” Stan explained much better this time. Kyle nodded, 

“Yeah, I can understand why you’d be scared of that, especially considering my history with that.” Kyle admitted, making eye contact with Stan.

“Dude listen, if we survived everything this past year, we can handle this. I don’t think any less of you because of it, you should know that. Sure, you probably should have been more careful, but everyone fucks up; I know I did. Just… don’t hide anything like that from me again. I can handle it. We both grew up in South Park, remember?” Kyle reminded him, smile crossing his face. 

“Yeah, we’ve dealt with our fair share of fucked up shit.” Stan laughed. 

“Exactly. I’ll admit, I’m still not happy about it, but I kinda see why you did it, the same way you could somewhat understand why I did what I did when I left, even if it wasn’t the best decision.” Kyle elaborated, Stan nodding in agreement. 

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. But seriously dude, I promise I won’t hide anything like that ever again.” Stan told him convincingly. 

“I’ll hold you to that.” Kyle let out, his initial rage having dissipated a little while ago. 

“Well, I’m glad no one’s going anywhere and you guys are cool again, but I’m getting the fuck back to sleep for the hour or so that I can. Night, er…morning, I guess.” Kenny yawned, getting up from the table and stretching his arms over his head. 

“You should probably get some sleep too.” Kyle told Stan, offering him his hand to help him up. Stan took it and raised himself up, his head spinning from standing up for the first time in hours. 

“Jesus Christ, I got the shittiest spins ever…” Stan droned on, massaging his forehead. 

“Oh, and by the way, if you guys choose to stay up and fuck because this drunk over here can’t shut his eyes without getting a migraine, remember to keep it down, ok? Especially you Kyle.” Kenny reminded them heading up the stairs, Stan and Kyle looking at each other wide eyed. “Anyways, night.” 

“Night…” They said uneasily in unison. 

“See, I told you you’re a loud screamer.” Stan told Kyle with a smirk. Kyle rolled his eyes at the raven haired boy as they reached the top of the stairs and stood in the hallway.

“Stan please, don’t even get me started on your shitty gag reflex.” Kyle shot back playfully, Stan’s cheeks becoming warm. 

They heard a forced cough come from across the hall, “Thin walls guys!” Kenny’s voice called out, “Thin walls…” 

\--------

A few months later, the baby was born without any major complications. Stan and Bebe were in the room with Wendy when it happened, Bebe giving Stan dirty looks all the while whenever Wendy would cry out in pain. Stan and Wendy’s parents waited in the lobby, along with Kyle, Kenny, Butters, and a bunch of other girls from South Park- it was like the whole damn town came out to see a show or some shit. 

When Wendy held the baby in her arms for the first time, Stan saw her smile a smile he had never seen; it was so genuine, so… motherly. The baby looked ugly as shit, but for some reason, Stan couldn’t help but flash a smile almost as broad as hers. It was at that initial moment that Stan realised his life was going to change in a big way, but at the same time, he was ok with it. He knew he’d have a lot to learn, but so would Wendy, just as every new parent has to. 

It was a baby boy. They wanted to name him a name that they didn’t know anyone personally by so that a specific person wouldn’t come to mind when thinking of the name. They decided on a simple name: Jacob, or Jake for short. He had a nice middle name too, a very special one that Wendy needed a bit of convincing to use. His last name was hyphenated, Wendy’s name going first of course. So far so good. 

 

Stan and Kyle heard a knock at the door, a loud knock. Kyle raised himself off of Stan and sat himself up straight on the couch, fixing his hair, the movie still playing in the background. 

“Who’s that?” Kyle wondered, slipping his shirt back on over his head. Stan let out a sigh,

“I think I know.” He concluded, putting on his tuque and running to the door. Not much to his surprise, it was Wendy, looking as hurried as ever. 

“Stan, I need you to take care of Jake for an extra day. The girls and I are going camping ‘cause finals just finished.” Wendy explained, handing over the baby carrier to him and throwing the supply bag into the house. 

“And you couldn’t have told me this earlier because…?” Stan questioned without denying her request. 

“Because it was a last minute thing. My parents are out of town too, so there’s no one else. It’s only one day early anyways.” Wendy argued, Stan realising that it was Thursday already. 

Stan let out a sigh, “Fine, but next time tell me sooner. The four of us were going to go camping tonight too.” Stan told her, pointing to the supplies and backpacks at the side of the kitchen, ready to go. “We were actually going to leave right when Kenny got back from work.”

Wendy put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow, “You were just going to leave for the whole weekend? You know you have to take care of him Friday night to Sunday. Jesus Christ Stan, take some responsibility.” 

“Wendy come on, why would Stan do that?” Kyle piped up, taking the carrier out of Stan’s hands as he argued with his ex. “We were just going for the night and we’d be back before you came and dropped Jake off tomorrow.” Kyle elaborated. 

“Alright, fine. But anyways, I left a list of his feeding times and everything in there. Do you need me to show you how to change a diaper again?” Wendy questioned. 

“Dude, I’ve been doing this for a month now. I got it.” Stan reminded her. 

“Just checking. Ok, I’m going now; bye bye my angel.” Wendy cooed as she kissed the baby’s forehead. Without saying goodbye to Stan or Kyle, she turned around and closed the door just as quickly as she came, Kyle taking the carrier back with him to the couch, Stan following. The two boys looked at the pale, chubby face of the little Marsh-Testaburger within. He had black hair, Wendy’s more upturned nose, and Stan’s steel blue eyes with little specks of brown within them. The baby was a beautiful mix of both parents. It was moments like that when Stan could admire the baby when he was glad that they kept him instead of giving him away for adoption. 

“Who are the godparents again?” Kyle asked, playing with Jake’s feet, the baby giggling in response. 

“Wendy’s aunt and uncle I think; I’ve never even met them.” Stan told him, Kyle nodding his head. The two of them looked at the baby a little while longer, his eyes slowly closing as he began to drift off to sleep.

“Who do you think I’ll be to Jacob when he’s old enough to recognise people?” Kyle whispered, his emerald eyes catching Stan’s. 

“Well, it depends one where we are. If we’re still together, which I hope we’ll be, you’ll be exactly what you are; my boyfriend. Maybe he’ll be a bit confused at first, but I don’t think it’ll take him long to realise that we’re together because we love each other.” Stan told Kyle softly, “And who knows? Maybe in years down the road we could be engaged and then you'd be something that much more significant to him.” 

A warm smile spread across the red-head’s face. “So marriage is an option for you, like in general?” Kyle reiterated. Stan nodded. 

“Yeah, of course dude.” 

“I’m glad.” Kyle sighed, releasing his breath. “I sort of had a feeling you might be against it because of the situation with your parents you had to deal with while growing up.” Kyle spoke sensitively. 

“Yeah, I was at first, especially when I was young, but then I realised that I can’t base my whole feelings toward marriage just based on my family’s experience with it. Sure it’s shitty having to deal with parents that can never make up their fuc—freaking minds and go back and forth between divorce lawyers and marriage counselors, but that’s because of the people they are, not because of marriage. I’d like to think I’m not like my dad, so I don’t think I’d do the effed up stuff he does to piss off my mom constantly.” Stan explained, trying to cut down on his swear words in front of the baby. “But yeah, dude, I’d totally be down for it if we felt we were in the right place for it.” 

Kyle gripped Stan’s hand, his smile still etched on his porcelain face. “Good. That’s something I’ve kind of wanted to know for a long time now.” 

Both of their expressions softened as they moved in close, their foreheads touching as they absorbed the tender words that had just passed. Kyle placed a hand on Stan’s cheek and pulled his face towards his, their lips gracing each other lightly, the baby sleeping in the carrier beside them on the ground near the couch. 

Suddenly, the door burst open as Kenny and Butters entered, Kenny shaking his head as he observed the scene. “Boys, boys, right in front of the baby?” 

Kyle shook his head, “He’s sleeping, dude. Don’t worry.” He assured. Kenny suddenly raised an eyebrow, realising something. 

“Oh woah, woah, wait a second. Why is Jake here?” Kenny questioned, kicking off his shoes and flinging his coat onto a chair. 

“Wendy dropped him off because she’s going camping with the girls. She just came by like twenty minutes ago without any warning.” Stan told him. 

“Jesus Christ, of course.” Kenny announced, flopping down on the couch beside the two of them. “Well, what are we gonna do with all the shit we already packed?” 

Everyone simultaneously shrugged their shoulders in defeat, embracing the fact that their little getaway was going to have to be terminated before it began, everyone except Butters. 

“We could still camp.” Butters piped up. Kenny cocked an eyebrow at his boyfriend. 

“Babe, how?” 

“We could do it in here. We couldn’t have a fire or nothin’, but we could set up a tent and everything. We’ve got nothin’ else to lose.” Butters deduced, his bright eyes shining with optimism. Kenny smiled back at him. 

“Huh, that’s not a bad idea actually. What do you guys think?” Kenny asked them. Stan and Kyle shrugged their shoulders. 

“Sure, why not?” Kyle agreed for the both of them. And just like that, they began a giant game of make-believe. They set up the tent, as quietly as they could, put the sleeping bags inside, made the couch cushions into logs that surrounded the “fire” (which was just the microwave), and melted marshmallows for s’mores inside of it. Kenny even faked getting killed by a man-bear-pig at one point, laughing and saying that that would be something that would totally happen to him if they were to actually go camping. Kyle, Stan and Butters didn’t find his joking about his death quite as funny as he did. 

The four of them realised that night that their lives would change upon Jake’s arrival into the world, yet they didn’t really seem to mind it all that much. Sure plans would have to be altered here and there, but they also realised that the kid was going to be a permanent fixture in their group and that they’d have to make the best of it, which really wasn’t hard to do with how well behaved the baby was. 

“I think I call being the cool, out-there uncle.” Kenny said with a yawn, nestling into his sleeping bag. 

“Sure, just please don’t teach him how to put on a condom before his first birthday.” Stan warned half-jokingly, turning the baby monitor up right by his pillow. 

“Nah, you gotta wait ‘til they’re at least two.” Kenny joked back. Butters sat up straight in his sleeping bag and looked at the black haired boy with wide eyes.

“Stan, would you mind if I knit him sweaters and stuff? I don’t think you or Wendy know how to do that, and I want to give him something to have so he can think of me even when he’s older.” Butters explained brightly. Stan nodded.

“Of course, dude. That’d be awesome.” He stated. Just as Stan laid his head back down, the baby monitor exploded with sound. 

“You better go fix your son.” Kenny said with a grin, knowing full well that he could have been in Stan’s place if he wasn’t more careful in the past. 

“I’ll come with you.” Kyle offered, zipping out of his own bag. 

“Dude, you don’t have to; he’ll be doing this all night.” Stan reminded him. Kyle shrugged his shoulders. 

“I know, but I want to.” Kyle told him sincerely. Stan shot him a warm smile and waited for him to exit before he did. When they got outside the tent and headed towards the small crib that Stan kept at their place, he pulled Kyle by the arm. 

“Seriously Kyle, you don’t have to come every time. I feel bad.” Stan went on, rubbing the back of his neck. Kyle placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a closed mouth smile. 

“Stan, if we’re going to be together for a while, I wanna be part of your kid’s life too. Who knows? Maybe one day I’ll be as big a part of his life as you are.” Kyle replied optimistically. 

“Honestly, I hope it comes to that.” Stan stated with a soft smile. 

“Me too.” 

\----

Over five years had since passed. It was an unusually cold June day. June 4th to be exact. It was the sixth anniversary of Cartman’s death. Everything was in bloom. Everything was bright, green, and alive. What an eerie contradiction, Kyle and Stan thought as they trudged through the saturated ground of the cemetery, mud dampening their new black shoes. The tiny family was all dressed up, considering they had just come from the synagogue, Kyle trying to expose Jake to at least a little Jewish culture, considering it was the religion of one of his father figures. It wasn’t a weekly thing by any means, but even once a month Kyle thought would be good enough for him to at least learn some of the rhythms of the songs and at least the chorus to Lekha Dodi. 

“Dad, it’s really cold.” Jacob stated with a shiver running through his body, looking up at Stan with his big blue eyes. “Why are we here?” The young, black haired boy questioned. 

Stan placed a hand on his shoulder as they approached the grave they were searching for, a grave they had visited many times before, but not yet with Jacob. 

“We’re here to see one of our old friends.” Stan declared, the words escaping rather difficultly from his mouth. God it had been a while since they were here. Stan and Kyle looked at the grave. There were still tons of flowers around it, a sure sign that someone they probably knew had come recently. Kyle couldn’t help but get a little overwhelmed every time he was there, and Stan couldn’t blame him. Coming there had a totally different effect on Kyle than it had on him, and Stan understood why. Stan wrapped his hand around Kyle’s, his hand that contained an engagement ring. Kyle let out a sigh when he felt the cold metal envelop his fingers. 

“What do you mean an old friend? It’s just a stone with someone’s name on it.” Jacob declared, using his rather developed vocabulary. It just occurred to Kyle and Stan that Jacob may never have seen a cemetery in person before. 

“Well Jake, why don’t you read the stone and see what it says?” Kyle suggested, lightly shoving his fiancé’s son forward. Jacob leaned down and read the letters aloud, each word coming out in broken syllables. 

“Er-i-c Th-e-o-dore Ca-rt-man.” Jacob sputtered aloud. “Hey! That’s my middle name!” Jacob stated with glee. 

Stan and Kyle smiled simultaneously. “Yeah, exactly, dude. Me and your mom named your middle name after our best friend: Eric. Eric’s not with us anymore, though; he’s in heaven now.” Stan elaborated, not overly sure about the heaven thing. 

“So he’s dead?” Jacob asked boldly, seeing through his dad’s euphemism. 

“Yeah, Jake. He died of cancer when Kyle and I were teenagers.” Stan stated plainly, not quite sure if he could handle answering too many more questions like that. 

“Oh…that’s sad. A guy in my class, James, his mom died of cancer too. We all signed a card for him.” Jacob sympathised, eyes fixed on the grey stone. 

“Yeah, cancer sucks.” Stan sighed. “But hopefully eventually your friend James will realise that his mom loved him and that he did everything he could for her while he was alive. That she couldn’t have asked for anything more.” Stan went on, dark clouds moving in as though on key. Jake nodded, craning his head over to Kyle. 

“What’s wrong with Kyle?” Jake whispered to Stan, noticing Kyle whipping a tear from his cheek. Stan’s heart sank as he watched his fiancé take a seat on the muddy ground next to the stone, trying to contain himself in front of Stan’s kid. 

“I think he needs a hug.” Stan told Jacob, the boy nodding in response. Jake ran over to Kyle and wrapped his arms around him, squeezing him tight. Kyle’s frown changed as he felt the small arms envelop him, smiling through his tear stained cheeks. A few moments later, Stan joined the hug, sitting next to Kyle on the muddy ground as he too wrapped his arms around the red-head. 

“Thanks, guys.” Kyle stated quietly, recomposing himself. The three of them sat on the ground together and waited until Kyle was ok to leave before they got up. As the three of them walked out of the cemetery and back to the car, Stan and Kyle couldn’t help but think about how much their lives had changed in the past five or six years. Sure their crazy young life they had in South Park was behind them, but what had followed was a somewhat even crazier journey for them, and not always in a good way. 

No journey is complete without some growing, and that’s definitely something Kyle and Stan had grown to do, and would continue to do, separately and together. Their lives had changed immensely without Cartman around, but in a way, it was like he never truly left. He was there under a tombstone, he was there in the centre of Stan’s son’s name, and he was with them whenever they saw something in their daily lives that reminded them of him in the form of a smile that would cross their faces as they remembered for that brief moment. And with all those brief moments that would come up, sometimes it would feel as though he never left. At least, that’s what it felt like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All done ~ Thank you guys so much for reading this through! It's funny how this was originally gonna be a one shot and it turned into a 10 chapter fic. Also, I mention a "mickey" of whiskey, and for the non-Canadians out there, that's a 375mL bottle of hard liquor, just so you know :)


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